Abduction Aftermath
by Viv-B
Summary: Abduction Aftermath follows directly on from the final cliff scene in 'The Abduction', with a very different ending; Michaela is recaptured by the dog soldiers, and must fight for her survival until she is rescued.
1. Chapter 1

**Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman**

_Abduction Aftermath_

_A Sacrifice of Love_

_Summary_

Abduction Aftermath follows directly from the final cliff scene in "The Abduction", and delves into the consequences following the struggle between One Eye and Sully, with a very different ending; Michaela must deal with being recaptured by the dog soldiers, and fight for her survival until she is ultimately rescued. The struggle does not end there, as Dr Mike must overcome life-threatening trauma, only to live through the town's judgments and contempt, to begin the slow and painful path of self-discovery. Michaela is not alone on her journey, as the trauma of her abduction has long-lasting effects on others: from Brian's attachment insecurities, to Colleen's limited adult-thinking. Matthew struggles to determine his role, be it son or 'man of the house', and Sully endeavors to salvage not only his relationship with Michaela, but her very view of herself. Trauma does not affect one person, or even one family alone; each member of this community will battle with their own opinions, and perceptions, in the ultimate yearning for human growth and healing.

_Disclaimer:_

Whilst some of the characters and names portrayed in this fan fiction remain the property of the CBS network, the events depicted are of my own creation. Where, on several occasions, individuals both living and deceased have been used, no assumption regarding the accuracy of their personality is assumed, and their beliefs are ascertained solely from available research. This material is published solely for entertainment and non-commercial enjoyment.

_Teaser:_

**X.O.X**

**Tuesday, 9th May, 1869**

_**Day Four of Michaela's Abduction**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela ran towards the edge of the cliff, stumbling in an attempt to halt her speed as she noticed the sharp drop to the rocks below. Turning back towards Sully, he too, began looking desperately for an alternate path from the pack of dog soldiers, the pair quickly making their way up the rocks in front of them. They continued to dodge bullets and rocks, unable to find an escape, as the dog soldiers' war cries closed in on them, fast. Michaela turned, noticing One Eye behind them, tomahawk gripped securely in his right hand.

"Sully!" she screamed, and grasped his arm. As he turned around, he narrowly missed the sharp blade as it flew past, only several inches from his head. Michaela felt her breath catch in her throat, as she took several steps away from Sully, watching the renegade approach him, and drew a knife from his right side. Sully hesitated, trying to gauge the dog soldier's movements, his eyes darting frantically between the anticipated struggle and Michaela, who remained several feet to his left. One Eye lunged towards him, and managed to throw a punch to the right side of his face. The force of the blow threw Sully off-balance, and the men arrived on the rough cliff edge, locked in primitive struggle.

Michaela felt her jaw drop, and a silent gasp of horror escaped her lips, as she witnessed the vicious brawl which ensured. Sully and One Eye continued to roll, until they arrived dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, still wrestling with each other in unwavering determination; both knew what was at stake.

**X.O.X**

The several seconds that followed felt like an eternity, as Michaela continued to watch the deadly scuffle; occasional grunts of protest and effort were emitted, as Sully managed to flip One Eye over onto his back. For a moment, as he prepared to push him from the edge of the cliff, Sully felt the relief wash over him; it was nearly all over. Michaela took a step closer, sensing that the struggle was nearing an end, however felt her eyes widen in disbelief, as the renegade dog soldier secured his hands tightly against Sully's upper arms. Sully felt the force of the grip, and was momentarily distracted by shock, this giving his attacker the mere fragment of a moment, to shift him off-balance, and throw him forwards above him. Sully felt the man's fingers released from his arms, a strangled cry of welling from his chest, as he was sent hurtling over the edge of the cliff, to the mass of jagged rocks below.

"No!" Michaela screamed, as her hands covered her face. She could barely feel the movement of her feet underneath her, as she raced to the edge of the cliff. Michaela felt a lightening bolt of terror flash through her veins, as her eyes located Sully's motionless form, lying sprawled on the rocks below.

"Sully! Sully!" Her voice was hoarse, and tears fell uncontrollably from her cheeks, as she squinted, leaning forwards to desperately glimpse any sign of movement. As if in slow motion, Michaela's attention was pulled away, when she felt a hand on her arm, pulling her back from the edge of the cliff.

"Sully!" Automatically resisting against the grasp, Michaela turned back around to the cliff edge, her eyes flickering between Sully's lifeless form, and the tempting salvation of the jagged rocks below.

She felt her chest tighten with anxiety, at the consideration of allowing herself to drop forwards to a self-determined fate, suspecting that death may be a more desirable outcome than the one that faced her. Michaela didn't get a further opportunity to contemplate the decision, as One Eye secured his hand firmly around her upper arm, and dragged her away from the edge once again.

Feeling the uneven surface tear at her already lacerated and bleeding feet, Michaela continued her echoing calls; her voice high-pitched and raw with terror and pain. Her gaze slipped from his still body, as she prayed that as she felt her feet trip along the torturous surface, she would hear something; that somehow, he would appear.

He did not move.

**Chapter 1**

"No, no. Let me go to him, please," Michaela begged, however received no response. She struggled against One Eye's grasp, fighting the pain in her damaged feet as much as the mental battle to return to Sully's aid. She felt his large hands squeeze painfully around her delicate wrists, as One Eye pulled some rawhide from his belt and once again, bound her arms. As the group of dog soldiers headed back down the mountain, Michaela still fought to pull back and check on Sully, and each time was forced more violently in the opposite direction.

"Sully!" Michaela felt tears once again well in her eyes as she continued down the mountain. The pain of the rocks under her feet provided a numbing distraction from the realization that Sully's lack of movement indicated the very worst of outcomes.

**X.O.X**

Colleen and Brian ran to the Reverend's side, as Custer and his soldiers prepared the Indians on the gallows. "Reverend, can't you stop this?" Matthew pleaded, certain that Sully and Dr Mike would have arrived back in time.

"No," Timothy looked up and saw Grace and Robert E. leave, disgusted by the sight. "I want you children to leave right now," Timothy spoke, as he ushered Colleen and Brian away, now feeling certain that the unspeakable massacre was actually going to occur.

"Please, Cloud Dancing is my friend." Brian protested, gripping the Reverend's arm, a child-like expression of pleading coming to his face.

"You can't let him do this, please, you have to stop him," Colleen continued, her eyes betraying the horror she felt, as she looked between the gallows and the Reverend.

Timothy shook his head, and slowly scanned the meadow around him, confident Sully and Dr Mike would have arrived back by now. It was already two in the afternoon; he'd begged Custer for as much extra time as he could. It was then that he saw the movement; a small gray presence coming towards them at a fantastic speed.

"Wait! General!" Timothy called as he spotted the animal running toward the crowd. Yes, that is what it was. A wolf.

"What is it Reverend?" Custer replied angrily, the endless distractions and hold-ups fuelling his frustration. He merely wanted to get this over with, however, did not want to risk criminal liability for killing Indians should it be avoidable. Taking a dozen or so steps across the crowded meadow, the General approached the Reverend's side.

"I think that's Sully's wolf," Reverend Johnson pointed out the animal to the General and the children.

"It is. Here Wolf, here boy!" Matthew called, immediately fearing the worst. Bystanders turned, as the exhausted animal dutifully stopped by Matthew's side.

"He's got something in his mouth," Brian commented, as the wolf dropped Sully's beads at Matthew's feet with a whimper.

"They're Sully's. Something's wrong. He mustn't be able to get here. Please General; you've got to go look for him. There's no way Wolf would have these unless something was wrong." Matthew picked up the colored beads and patted Wolf in gratitude. Colleen clutched closer to his side, a small utterance of fear causing Matthew to wrap his right arm supportively around her back.

"Are you out of your mind? I've got a job to do son. Mr. Sully was specifically instructed that there would be no rescue attempt, should he get into trouble. And frankly, I wouldn't know where to start looking." The General dismissed quickly, and turned back to the gallows, however was distracted once again by the sound of the young boy's voice.

"Wolf could show you, sir," Brian whispered, and gripped the man's arm with the pleading look that only a young child has.

"He's right, General. Sully and Wolf are never separated, unless he's hurt. And if Sully's hurt, Dr Mike's still out there. We know she'll be killed in a matter of time, please, just search until the end of today, these Indians aren't going anywhere, and they'll be just as dead this time tomorrow." Matthew continued, his right hand gesturing to the caged villagers across the meadow.

"I'm not traipsing around the mountains following some dog. Sergeant," The General turned back to the gallows, signaling his approval.

"Please!" Brian pulled harder on the General's arm, the unchecked tears glistening against his pale cheeks. "Please, sir, don't do this. Killing all these people won't bring my Ma back. Can't you just look for her for awhile? Don't want nothin' to happen to her. Please?" Brian begged, his right arm shaking, as his older brother stepped forward to remove him.

Custer tried to shake the small boy off, however was not able to escape the truth in his words. Brian looked hopefully between Colleen and the General before continuing. "Please, sir, it's my birthday tomorrow, and I want my Ma back. I mean, I did want a horse; she's a real pretty horse and all, I asked Ma if I could," Brian rambled on, eventually being cut off by the General in exasperation.

"All right, enough!" Custer relented, and ordered the Indians returned to the confinement. He could finish the job tomorrow; however he'd look even better if he managed to rescue the Doctor as well.

"All right. Reinforcements have arrived from Denver; we'll start a search party. Half of the soldiers will stay here and guard the Indians, the other half will look for Dr Quinn." General Custer responded, not expecting Colleen to rush to his side in gratitude.

"Oh, thank-you, sir. General," she corrected herself, her hands clasped tightly together. "It's been four days now. You've got to get her back. Please." Colleen begged. Brian hugged her, as the three Cooper children watched the General return to the soldiers.

"What about Sully?" Matthew commented, noticing the whining wolf still at their feet, sniffing Sully's beads in a forlorn manner.

"I don't think they're interested in him, somehow," the Reverend replied, watching on as the soldiers mounted their horses and prepared to leave the town.

"Well then, we'll have to find him ourselves," Matthew replied, gathering the Reverend, Jake, Hank, Horace and Loren together into a small circle.

"We gotta head out there, can't leave it up to the army. Custer ain't interested, all he's interested in is killin'." Matthew folded his arms tightly across his chest, gesturing back towards Cloud Dancing and the other villagers.

"You're right about that. Ain't gonna stick with it any longer than he needs to. Reckon we'd have a better chance," Loren nodded, considering the proposition, Hank retorting with a cynical grunt.

"I ain't wasting my time on this; I've got a business to run. If Sully had a found her by now, they'd be back. He's probably tied up over some campfire bein' tortured, and Michaela's," Hank raised his right eyebrow, receiving a very disproving glare from the Reverend.

"Talk like that ain't gonna help, no-one, Hank." Horace stated curtly, Hank responding with a flick of his long hair, as he sidled back to the Saloon.

"Wolf here can lead us to Sully; Dr Mike's gotta be with him," Matthew reasoned, the others agreeing, and quickly dispersing to the livery to commence their search.

**X.O.X**

"You all gonna be right?" Robert E. secured a blanket and canteen to the back of his horse, turning to glance at his wife, who stood between Colleen and Brian.

"Now don't you men start worryin' 'bout us, you just get on out there. Find Sully and Dr Mike," Grace nodded seriously, glancing around as Robert E., Matthew, the Reverend, Horace, Jake, and Loren all finished preparing their horses.

"Might be a few days, depends how far we have to travel," Robert E. locked eyes with Matthew as the men began mounting their horses and departing from the coopering.

"Just don't come back 'til ya got, Ma, Matthew." Brian squeezed Colleen's right hand against his shoulder, seeing the convoy depart hastily.

"Don't you worry, little brother. Gonna be fine," Matthew reassured, quickly locating the Wolf by his side. "Go on, boy, find." Matthew watched as the wolf quickly broke out into an even pace, the six men having to push their horses to keep up.

"Let's, let's go check on that soup, Brian." Grace patted the young boy's shoulder, attempting to distract him from the inevitable wait; perhaps in truth, more to distract her own mind from troubled wanderings.

**X.O.X**

The Cheyenne dog soldier rested his hands loosely around the white woman's waist, ensuring she was secured on the horse as they neared their destination. From his position, sitting close behind her, One Eye could smell the faint floral scent of her hair, as it brushed against his face. She had remained quiet for their journey, barely moving as they rode along the uneven terrain. Moving closer against her back, aroused, he smiled to himself, knowing she would soon be his.

Ever since she had challenged him that day on the Reservation, he had wanted her. He saw the fire of determination in her eyes from the moment he first held the knife to her neck. It was that terror which had captivated his interest for the past four days. He was glad Walks on Cloud had dissuaded him from killing her earlier, for her contained fear and panic had provided him with many moments of enthrallment. There was no telling how long the necessary revolts between the renegade Cheyenne and the army were to continue, and he longed for pleasure.

As they arrived at the abandoned reservation, One Eye slipped a hand to her stomach, running it against the smooth material of her skirt, feeling her soft flesh underneath. He felt the warmth of her back against his broad chest, and once again, indulged in the sight of her creamy, smooth skin, exposed through her torn blouse. Surprised when she did not resist, the dog soldier smiled to himself; night would fall soon.

Michaela lifted her head when she noticed the horse come to a stop. She had been asleep, and had no recollection of the journey. Brushing her matted hair from her face, Michaela looked up to see the deserted camp surrounding her. It was the same place she'd been taken the first night when the dog soldiers had abducted her from the Caraway's homestead, however it was now empty, as unbeknownst to Michaela, the army had taken the women and children prisoner. From the position of the sun in the sky, she guessed it was late in the afternoon. As she felt herself being pulled from the horse, Michaela dismally comprehended that she was to spend another night here; another night, cold and hungry. She felt tears sting her eyes once again, as her scratched, blistered feet touched the rough ground. However, it was not cold nor hunger which she dreaded the most; it was the unshielded look of desire she could read in her abductor's face.

"Please," Michaela sobbed; the pain of trying to walk exacerbating her already fragile emotional state. One Eye continued pulling her across the camp, eventually pushing her down onto the ground as he lit a fire several feet in front of her. Michaela wiped the tears from her face awkwardly, as she took a deep breath, gazing around at her surroundings. She felt isolated, alone. Worst of all, she felt helplessly vulnerable; as if control had been taken from her, her fate now dictated by men she knew would kill her without conscience. The other dog soldiers chatted amongst themselves, occasionally laughing and gesturing to her. Michaela once again pictured Sully's body lying at the bottom of the cliff, the image immediately dashing any lingering hope she had that he would appear and take her home. After several minutes of solitude, Michaela startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Instinctively, she pulled away.

"Don't," she pleaded, trying to pull away from One Eye's touch, however this not deterring him, as he stroked her hair in an attempt at affection. Michaela felt herself gasp several times, as she fought the repulsion that consumed her. Barely able to muster the energy, she struck her abuser directly in the chest with her bound hands, however, instantly regretted her actions, when she felt a smarting pain as his hand collided with the side of her face. Not knowing whether it was his hand, or the collision with the ground, Michaela moaned at the burning pain which radiated from her right cheek, as she raised her head slowly, spitting the dirt from her mouth. Protectively rolling over into a defensive ball, Michaela buried her head in her chest and drew her knees to her stomach, her breathing heavy as she tried to block out the throbbing pain.

**X.O.X**

"You didn't have to stay out here, Miss Dorothy." Colleen smiled over at the red-haired woman as they finished cooking supper.

"Don't be silly, Colleen, I was happy to. What with Matthew and Loren away, I was glad of the company. Besides, we couldn't have the two of you staying out here on your own." Dorothy added some wood to the fire, and sat back down as Colleen placed the fried chicken on the table, and took her seat.

"Brian, supper's ready. I made your favorite." Colleen called to the young boy, who was moving gently in the rocking chair, his feet pulled up to his chest.

"Colleen, think they've found her yet?" Brian asked, not ceasing the soothing rocking backwards and forwards.

"I don't know, Brian. Come on, you love fried chicken. I made it special for ya!" She smiled, taking the plate of chicken from Dorothy, and moving some onto her plate.

"I'm not hungry. I want Ma back." He looked away from her with a frown, as he stared back into the fire.

"Starving yaself ain't gonna bring her back, silly," Colleen was just as worried as Brian, and his tantrums were not helping to ease the solemn mood.

"It ain't silly, I don't want any dumb old chicken!" Brian yelled back.

"Come on, children, please don't argue. We'll know more in the morning when the men get back. Brian, you don't have to have any supper, but you want to be strong tomorrow, don't you? It's your birthday, we're gonna have cake, and you'll get presents." Dorothy tried to lighten the ambiance in the room, returning her attention to the crisp chicken and vegetables on her plate. After several moments of silence, Brian eventually skulked to the table, nibbling on his favorite meal.

"I don't want a birthday party tomorrow, Miss Dorothy. Don't much feel like celebratin'," Brian whispered, turning his attention once again back to the blazing fire.

**X.O.X**

Michaela gazed from the starry night sky down into the fire burning only several feet away. Her eyes were sore from crying, as was her bruised cheek and bleeding feet. Moving her head slowly to look around her, she felt a strange sense of deja-vu creep over her. She remained perfectly still, holding her breath as One Eye approached her, handing her some cooked meat and water. Realizing she had no chance of escape, and feeling nauseous with hunger, Michaela accepted the offering, drinking until her throat no longer burnt from thirst, and eating the first food she'd had since the plate of berries and honeycomb. She remembered the taste of the honey on her lips, as Sully held her softly in his arms. Swallowing, she felt fresh tears trickle down her cheeks. He would be dead by now for certain; if the fall alone had not killed him.

Her thoughts of Sully were quickly interrupted when she was again pulled to her feet. Immediately resisting, Michaela gasped as she felt his hand once again stroke her cheek. She held her breath, every ounce of strength being used to resist the urge to pull away or defend herself. Her mind was in turmoil, intellect and instinct grappling against each other. Even if she got away, she had nowhere to run, and she knew he could still kill her if he did not think she was worth the trouble. Michaela was brought back into the present moment, when she felt his hand move down her throat to her chest, cupping her left breast firmly.

"No, please," she pleaded, looking desperately around the camp at the other dog soldiers watching on. There were no women left anymore, and the faces staring back at her were cold and unsympathetic.

Michaela felt his hold on her upper arm strengthen, and reluctantly was directed back towards a nearby tepee. Paralyzing reality struck her in a single moment. She didn't think she could move, however, knew physical resistance was a dangerous defense.

"Please, I don't," Michaela begged again, knowing she had no choice, but not being able to go willingly, fully aware of what the fate which awaited her. Feeling her fear rise as she took one step in the intended direction and then another, Michaela heard the choked sob catch in her throat, almost wishing herself dead rather than the alternative. It was in that instant of complete mental isolation, that Michaela found herself unintentionally picture the children; Matthew, Colleen, Brian. She felt a small pebble under her right foot, the intrusive pain enough to force Michaela to concentrate more firmly on the images inside her head.

With each step towards the tepee, Michaela forced herself to focus on being back home, being back with her children. _Brian. _It was his birthday tomorrow. She couldn't see him hurt again. He couldn't be put through the loss of another mother. Michaela knew in that moment, that whatever happened, she had to stay alive. That she wouldn't be killed unless she fought. Somehow, no matter what, if she could stay alive, she would be rescued. Michaela saw fragments of her life pass through her eyes, she thought of her father, of Sully, and again of the children. She was strong; determined.

She would survive this.

**X.O.X**

Hank paced up and down the porch of the Saloon, nodding as Grace crossed the street, having just called into the store.

"Well, Grace, haven't seen anyone come back yet, you heard anythin'?" He exhaled a puff of smoke from his mouth.

"Nothing. Sure is quiet around here." Grace shook her head, miserably.

"Yeah, hear Dorothy's lookin' after the kids, guess it's just you an' me" He winked with a twisted smile.

"Save your breath, Hank Lawson. Seeing as how you weren't bothered to go out after Dr Mike." Grace pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, turning to leave.

"I just didn't see the point is all. Even if they find her alive, she'll wish she was dead after what them injuns probably done to her." Hank sneered, taking another puff of his cigar.

"You can't say that," Grace trailed off, contemplating the suggestion.

"Sure can. You heard Jake and Loren talkin' about what they're like a few weeks back. Probably doin' her a favor if they kill her anyway." Hank rested an arm casually on the Saloon door. From the look on his face and slurring of his words he may as well have been chatting about the weather.

"Well, it don't matter what happens, as long as they find her alive," Grace replied defensively, her voice shaky.

"Easy for you to say that, all tucked up safe and sound here. How'd you feel having to lay down with one of those savages. Probably all of 'em. Suppose they do find her, no man'll ever touch her again." Hank scoffed, one eyebrow raised.

"You've got a very cruel streak, Hank Lawson. May God have mercy on your soul, and heaven forbid you ever need the help of your friends." Grace was just about to storm off, when they heard the sound of approaching horses.

"Well, well, maybe we'll get this over and done with sooner than we thought." Hank, Grace and the other townsfolk ran across to the cavalry as they stopped their horses in the main street.

"What happened, did you find them?" Grace asked, addressing General Custer.

"No, didn't find a thing, few abandoned campsites here and there but they could be anywhere," Custer replied gruffly, exhausted from the day's trek, wanting nothing more than a hot meal and warm cot.

"But they're still out there. You can't just leave 'em," Grace raised her voice slightly; it had been five days now.

"Well, if they're still alive, we couldn't find 'em. And since Dr Quinn's still missing, we've got some hangings to prepare for, come morning." Custer retorted, before ordering his men back to their tents for the night.

"Oh, that man," Grace trailed off, disgusted.

"Hey, least he tried. Up to me, I'd 'ave just got rid of the whole lot of 'em savages right off. Save ourselves the effort." Hank threw his cigarette butt into the nearby spittoon, with a smile.

"Let's just hope the men have more luck," Grace concluded, making her way back to the café briskly.

**X.O.X**

As she was pushed through the flap into the small tepee, Michaela looked back once again, trying to enlist someone's help; however by this stage, the other Indians had lost interest, and had resumed their conversations. Taking another forced breath, Michaela turned as One Eye closed the tepee flap behind them, and led her towards the pile of blankets in the far right corner. Feeling nausea threaten to push her into retaliation, Michaela dropped her eyes closed, reminding herself once again that her children needed her; alive. That she must survive. Aware of the soft blankets underneath her, she felt her center of gravity shift, keeping her eyes closed, as she felt his rough hands seize her shoulders.

Having overcome her natural instinct to escape the situation, Michaela felt the raw terror sweep over her; turning her blood cold, as she grappled with the comprehension that nightmare was about to become reality. She must force herself to submit to that which repulsed her beyond consideration. Michaela was distracted from her inner dialogue, as she felt the blankets against her back, realizing, with some disorientation, that she'd been guided downwards and into a level position, flat against the ground.

"Please, don't hurt me." She heard the now familiar plea pass her lips, knowing she'd uttered them more to reassure herself than to influence her would-be ravisher. Michaela swallowed and closed her eyes tighter as she felt his fingers on her blouse, undoing the few remaining buttons that were still left. She felt his other hand slip underneath her skirt and along her legs, involuntarily resisting the contact with her bound hands.

"Stop, stop!" Michaela struggled to pull away, unable to withstand his touch. One Eye reacted without delay, grabbing hers wrists and securing her arms painfully above her head with his left hand. His right hand moved quickly to his belt, as he drew his knife and leant back over Michaela's small body, to press it against her throat.

"Neve'nêheševe! Netanová!" he snarled, increasing the force with which the implement made contact with her skin, causing Michaela to whimper as the sharp edge of the blade cut into her neck. The language barrier was the least of her concerns. No-one needed a translation for something so primitive; if she resisted, he'd kill her. Once again closing her eyes and letting her arms go limp above her head, Michaela pictured the children. Tears formed behind her closed eyelids.

She felt One Eye's hands unbutton her skirt and pull it down from her waist. He moved his knife from her throat to the edge of her chemise, and cut through the thin material in one sharp motion to expose her chest. Michaela squirmed involuntarily in response to the invading gesture, however, saw the blade of the knife glimmer above her, and focused all her efforts on again remaining still. Realizing she understood the consequence if she were to struggle, One Eye returned the knife to his belt, and repositioned himself against her.

Eyes dropping closed again, Michaela felt her body freeze. Resistance was not an option, she'd angered him enough already. She knew the only way she would stay alive would be to allow the inevitable to occur.

Michaela was far away in her head before she felt his lips on hers and his hands on her chest. Managing to overpower physical and mental disgust, she struggled for breath, the night air feeling cold against her exposed flesh. Swallowing, and taking another shallow gasp of air, Michaela directed her attention to combating the nausea welling up from her stomach, as she was conscious of his hands groping her upper body.

"Please," she whispered, not knowing whether to be relieved or not when she felt his lips leave hers. Taking several revitalizing breaths, Michaela slowly opened her eyes, just as she felt his hands move downwards to reach the waistband of her bloomers. Feeling every muscle in her body tense, Michaela turned her head to the left side, letting her eyes once again drop closed.

Tears trickled silently down her cheeks as she felt the cool air hit her exposed flesh. She tried to remove herself from the physical sensations she was experiencing, knowing that thinking about what she was allowing to take place would make compliance impossible.

Michaela remembered why she had to get through this: the children. She forced every fiber within her to block out the feeling of the Indian's hands on her thighs. Disjointed images flooded her consciousness until they locked once again on Brian. She remembered the feeling of running her fingers through his fine, soft hair, remembered the look on Brian's face when she found the bruises on the back of his legs, just over a week ago, after Miss Chambers had struck him. Michaela knew she had to be there to protect him, and reflected upon her conversation that night. Feeling Brian pressed against her chest, as she hugged him tightly and sang him to sleep, Michaela couldn't hear anything at that point aside from her breathing, nor could she feel the dog soldier's fingers on her cold flesh. Taking the chance at opening her eyes, Michaela felt her mouth dry and her dread escalate as she saw and felt his naked form descend onto hers.

"Oh God," Michaela bit her lower lip as she felt his weight press down on top of her, praying silently that something would prevent the inevitable from occurring. Feeling his hand on her knee, Michaela struggled for breath, aware of the tears running down her face and neck. As he forced her legs apart, she felt her entire body shake in unmitigated terror. Trying to resist, Michaela pushed her hands against the blankets above her head, searching for something, anything to grasp, or use as a weapon. Feeling only the blanket between her clutched fingers, Michaela realized her arms weren't actually moving; having been immobilized by fear. She couldn't move at all by that stage, leaving her with no other sanctuary than her mind. As much as every inch of her spirit told her to fight, her body was frozen.

"No," Michaela heard her voice come from nowhere, nothing more than a dutiful sobbed plea, uttered simply to console her own conscience. She moved her gaze up to the top of the tepee, able to see several stars illuminating the night sky. She could feel his fingers touching her, preparing to enter her.

Michaela forced her eyes closed and held her breath, images flashing across her mind as she tried to accept her impending fate. Having previously being able to mentally distract herself from physical reality, Michaela sensed the air within her rush out in a pained moan, as she felt him invade her. Gasping, she tried to move her hands, anything to make the overwhelming pain stop. She realized he had her wrists pinned above her head, making it impossible for her to move. Michaela struggled for awareness beyond the physical torment being inflicted upon her, inescapably conscious of every movement. She was unable to control the drawn-out cry that continued to flow from her lips; the physical pain being worse than she could have anticipated. Michaela was left incapable of concentrating on anything else, no matter how hard she struggled.

"Stop," she whimpered, as tears streamed uncontrollably from her eyes. "Please." She felt the breath pass from her mouth, however unable to hear her own utterance. Michaela felt her teeth return to her lower lip, in a desperate attempt to endure the burning pain, physical torture having swiftly taken over from emotional violation.

_Sully._

Michaela wept, her cries only strengthening when she reminded herself he could not save her. Michaela was soon distracted by the taste of blood in her mouth, as her teeth bit through her lower lip. She felt him forcing his way deeper inside of her, however, could only let out a low whimper of sustained protest. The hot tears streamed down her face and Michaela was able to taste their saltiness in her mouth, as it melded with her own blood.

Eventually, the darkness behind her eyelids faded away until she was back in Colorado Springs, in the meadow. It was the celebration of Washington's birthday, and Brian had been so excited about his upcoming performance as a young George Washington. He'd been practicing for days, wandering around the Clinic murmuring his 'line'. He looked adorable in his outfit and hat, chopping down the 'cherry tree' with Sully's tomahawk. Pushing her head back harder against the blankets underneath her, Michaela could hear Brian's innocent voice fluttering through fragments of words and conversation. She could see Colleen's face as she handed her the stethoscope with frostbitten hands; she knew she had to hold onto these memories.

Michaela felt her consciousness resurface to the present moment, the stinging from her lip providing welcome competition to the uncontrollable pain she was suffering. Still, she kept her eyes closed, begging for unconsciousness to sweep her away from torture; feeling the dog soldier's hot, panting breath against her cheek, as his hands roughly assaulted her upper body. Slowly, the comforting darkness found her.

Her next sensation was the roughness of a blanket as it was thrown against her bare skin. Moving her hands slowly, to push the corner of the object from her mouth and nose, Michaela waited several minutes before opening her eyes to confirm her isolation. Not daring to move, she felt the tears dry on her face, before she eventually attempted to pull herself into a sitting position.

Immediately, Michaela felt the blood as it trickled down her legs. Hesitantly removing the blanket that covered her, she gasped when she saw the bright red stain underneath her and the blood which covered her thighs. Without further thought, Michaela moved slightly, and tried to reach for her bloomers which lay several feet away, before being overcome by pain and disorientation. Unable to think beyond that moment, she dropped back against the blanket. As her thoughts slowly rationalized, she regretted that she'd left her petticoat on the rock when they'd departed that morning, thinking it would be too awkward to climb through the mountains wearing it.

Feeling the blankets underneath her, Michaela felt tears of hopelessness return. She would never be rescued, probably killed come morning. The prospect of spending more nights going through what she just had, seemed just as abhorrent. Michaela felt the piercing discomfort intensify as she struggled to endure her environment, feeling pain, fear, and coldness merge together into one emotional experience. Merely by taking one breath, after another, after another, Michaela knew she could stay alive. Drowsiness soon became a welcomed refuge, and, moving very guardedly, into a protective ball, she fell to a semi-conscious sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**X.O.X**

**Wednesday, 10th May, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this, when I could have spent the night in a nice, warm bed and had a hot meal." Jake groused, splashing water over his face in a desperate attempt to wake himself up. The six men had been searching until the early hours of the morning, before deciding to make camp until dawn.

"Look. you've only been out here one night, Jake. What about Dr Mike? She's been out here five now. So don't think you've got any right to start complainin'," Loren challenged the younger man, although feeling just as tired and cold, he at least had the decency not to admit it.

"But we ain't even got that wolf no more, went running up that cliff. Probably chasin' a rabbit or something," Jake finished packing up his belongings, realizing everyone was waiting on him.

"Well, we can't give up now. Besides, if we return without them, Custer'll hang the rest of the Indians at the first opportunity," the Reverend was just as tired as the others, however tried desperately to boost their spirits.

"But we ain't gonna find them. We passed Custer and his men last night; they've given up, maybe with good reason." Jake slowly laced his shoes, and arrived to his feet.

"I'm shocked at all of you! That's my Ma out there, and Sully. And God only knows if they're injured, or even dead. All I do know is, I ain't going back to tell Brian and Colleen they've lost another mother. Any of you that want to, be my guest. But I'd sooner die out here trying to find them, then return to town never knowin'," Matthew mounted his horse, and secured his hat on his head, sheer rage providing him with enough energy to keep going.

"Matthew's got a point; we can't just leave Dr Mike out here with the injuns," Loren acquiesced, tying his folded bedding to the back of his horse.

"I agree, I mean, Dr Mike's worked to save all of us, at one time or another. Jake, she took care of you when you were drinking, mean she coulda let you die, but she didn't. She _fought_ to keep you alive. Same as you Loren. Why, we all owe our lives to her, and I ain't givin' up either." Horace reaffirmed Matthew's words, waiting for the others to follow suit.

"Well, then, Jake? I don't believe you can argue with that," the Reverend questioned, waiting several moments until Jake and Loren relented and too climbed onto their horses.

"Right, let's go. We're gonna start over, from the Caraway's homestead where Sully said they took her," Matthew ordered, leading the search party once again.

**X.O.X**

Michaela awoke to the feeling of a hand on her face, and blearily opened her eyes, having momentarily forgotten her location.

"Where?" She moved her head slightly, realization dawning on her as directly as a bolt of lightening struck a tree. "No, please," Michaela pulled her arms weakly from her chest, attempting to deflect the physical contact, however still struggling to piece all the events together into a meaningful sequence.

The dog soldier kept his right hand clasped firmly to the side of her face, as he almost gently, pulled the red blanket from her body. Michaela felt the chilling air summon her attention, and struggled to sound more convincing in her appeal, despite fighting physical weakness.

"Don't," she pleaded. It wasn't until that moment, that Michaela was able to recall the specific details of the previous nights' events; she could then interpret the intention of the man who remained knelt beside her.

"Please, I, I'm hurt," Michaela heard the lifeless words slip from her mouth, in too much pain to protest with any more vigor. She recoiled from the touch of his hand, as he ran his fingers along the side of her body, noticing the blood which stained her thighs. This did not seem to have any deterring impact, as he effortlessly rolled her onto her back once again.

Michaela noticed her arms rested against her bare chest, as she searched the depths of her panicked mind, for any useful defense. "He-hévoeotse." She struggled to find an appropriate translation; in that moment grateful Cloud Dancing had provided her with several medically relevant words, bleeding being one of them.

She waited several seconds as the dog soldier frowned, and clearly took in her utterance, however gasped in protest as he roughly pulled her bound hands away from her chest, and pressed them firmly against the blankets above her head.

From the powerful grip around her wrists, Michaela knew physical resistance would be pointless. She deliberately turned her head away, as she felt his right hand slide forcefully along the inside of her thigh. An anguished whine sounded from her throat, as Michaela felt his knees lock either side of her right leg; the mere strength he possessed with a single hand, rendered any possible defense trifling and worthless.

Michaela could feel the biting sting of pain hit her the moment he made contact with her defiled body; her breathing shallow as she dug her fingernailss into the palms of her clenched hands. Somehow, the pain of something she could control eased the unparalleled agony of the savage brutalization she could not.

This superficial relief, however, did not last for long. Michaela felt the damage his ravishment was causing. "_No_, _no_," By that point, she was unable to distinguish between verbal protests, and mental pleas. She knew further trauma would destroy any clotting, however was confronted by the dark reality, that there was absolutely nothing she could do to prevent it. Her body thrashed against the padded surface underneath her, and Michaela pressed her arms as hard as she was able against his muscular chest. She was blinded by the searing pain which caused her to yelp with each movement of his body against hers; unable, even to perceive, the sadistic mauling of her breasts and thighs, as the vicious, dehumanizing assault continued.

Soon numb to the physical torture, Michaela could hear the abstract voices talking over the top of one another in her mind. It wasn't only herself she could hear by this stage; but Colleen, Matthew, and Brian. Although she could not discern the content of their words, she could recognize the sounds; the pitches; as she her eyes clouded over into welcome blackness.

In what seemed like only seconds later, Michaela felt the darkness lift from her eyes. She was aware of only her physical entity and the dampness between her legs, as she gingerly reached a hand to her thighs. Michaela groaned when she felt the warm trickle of blood hit her frozen fingertips.

"No," It was not the blood that petrified her; she had expected as much. However, Michaela knew it was not supposed to be this severe. There was nothing she could do, aside from attempt to reduce the rate of bleeding. She could feel the pulsating wetness against her hand, and her fingers soon became slippery and stained with her own life. Death, as a result of blood loss, came as an immediate consideration. Michaela weakly glanced around her almost pitch black surroundings, feeling for any remnants of her clothing. Her fingers locked quickly onto her brown skirt, and Michaela struggled to tear a large piece from the edge of the thick material. Her hands shook as involuntary drowsiness threatened to overtake her. Michaela succeeded in securing the packing, before her thought processes jumbled to the point of confusion, and sleep consumed her.

**X.O.X**

The next sounds to stir her from near-unconsciousness, was the sound of gunfire in the distance. As she fought against the agonizing pain, Michaela located and attempted to refit, her skirt; however with her hands bound she couldn't fasten it completely. It was then that she heard the familiar voice:

"Dr Mike! Dr Mike?" Jake called, beginning to search through the tepees, while the remainder of the group ensured the dog soldiers were no longer a threat.

Feeling a sense of humiliation creep over her, Michaela frantically smoothed her skirt over her bloodstained legs, and buttoned up the few buttons left on her blouse. As a last desperate attempt to salvage some shred of dignity, she wrapped the dark, red blanket tightly around her upper body, just as she saw the tent flap move. Taking a deep breath, she didn't know what to expect, and dropped down to the floor in a protective ball.

"Doctor Mi," she heard the familiar voice as she lifted her head slightly, opening her eyes to confirm the identity.

"She's here! I found her!" Horace called excitedly, entering the tent and approaching her. He carefully took in her disheveled appearance, torn clothing and tears.

Horace bent down to kneel next to her crumpled form; he'd never seen her like this. It was then that he noticed the blood on her hands, quickly untying the rawhide around her wrists.

"Dr Mike?" He placed a hand on her shoulder, surprised when she flinched, immediately realizing who it was and looking away.

"Come on, we're taking you home." Horace wasn't sure if she was injured or not, she wouldn't speak. He helped her to her feet, as Jake entered the tepee.

"Horace what's taking so," Jake stopped mid sentence when he saw Michaela. Her long hair was knotted, and partially obscured her face. Her blouse was torn on the right sleeve and shoulder, done up with only a few buttons, exposing the flesh of her upper chest and neck, barely covering her.

"Are you hurt?" Jake gestured to the blood covering her hands. Receiving no response, he took a few steps towards her, brushing her hair back so he could see her face properly. She had scratches and bruises on her forehead and cheek; however it was the empty, hollow expression he saw in her eyes that alarmed him the most.

"Horace we need to get her back to town." Jake reached for Michaela's left arm, as she tried to walk towards the opening in the tent, letting a soft moan escape her lips and stopping again, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Dr Mike? I don't think she can walk, Jake," Horace frowned.

"God only knows what she's been through. They probably," Jake trailed off, and looked away to notice her undergarments discarded several feet from the pile of blankets.

"I'll carry her," Jake finished in an effort to ignore the realization that was dawning on him, surprised when Michaela did not resist. He picked her up in one swift movement, and carried her out into the morning sunlight.

It was only a minute or so until Loren, Robert E., and the Reverend had met up with them, after ensuring the dog soldiers were no longer a threat.

"What's happened to her?" Loren asked, before receiving a cold stare from Jake.

"Hurry, come on, we gotta get her back to the Clinic. Colleen can," the Reverend trailed off as Matthew spotted them.

"Dr Mike! Are you," Matthew too was left speechless as he ran up to the group.

The young man stumbled, awkwardly maintaining his balance as he arrived between Horace and the Reverend, stopping abruptly. His jaw dropped, eyes narrowing in concern, as he recognized the slight form of his mother, supported easily in Jake's arms.

"Ma?" Matthew swallowed, taking a step closer, Michaela's eyes falling closed, expressing no recognition at the sound of his voice.

"Look, we'll get her back to the Clinic and I'll wire Denver straight away. Make sure they send us a doctor first thing." Horace, surprisingly, was the only one able to think rationally.

"You're right, she. Dr Mike?" Jake looked down, as Michaela went limp in his arms.

"Oh my God, is she?" Loren overreacted.

"No, she's passed out," Jake answered quickly, hastily moving towards the group of horses.

"Come on Jake, we'll put her on your horse." Horace decided, jostling the group into action.

**X.O.X**

Dorothy and the two children climbed from the wagon quickly, immediately dispersing between the Clinic and Grace's cafe, for any updates.

"Oh, Grace, thank goodness! Any word?" Dorothy ran towards the woman, who turned from the stove upon hearing her name.

"'fraid not, the men still aren't back yet. Custer and the army gave up late last night." Grace poured them both a cup of coffee as they took their seats.

"So, they were out there all night?" Dorothy spoke, shocked.

"Yeah. Oh, I'm so glad you're back in town. I had to put up with Hank all evening. You shoulda heard the filth comin' from his mouth." Grace shook her head, appalled.

"I can imagine. Sometimes it's as though that man has no heart." Dorothy consoled, as Colleen and Brian approached them.

"Nothing. Any word here?" Colleen spoke, taking a seat.

"Afraid not, sweetheart. The men are still searching though." Dorothy smiled, wrapping an arm around Brian's shoulders, as he snuggled closer to her.

"They'll find her, won't they? They gotta," Brian wiped his eyes, trying to cover up the fact that he'd been crying.

"Oh, I'm sure they will. You just got to believe." Grace smiled, standing and bringing Brian a piece of pie.

"Here ya go. This'll make you feel better." She stroked the top of his head softly.

"Nah, I'm not hungry." Brian pushed the plate away, not in the least bit interested.

"Oh, Brian, congratulations! We got to have a special lunch for you today, all right?" Grace suddenly remembered the little boy's birthday. He shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it.

"I dunno, Miss Grace, I don't really." he trailed off, looking at Dorothy for support.

"That's really sweet of you, Grace. I just think Brian'd rather wait until Michaela's back to celebrate with him." She smiled, squeezing the boy's hand affectionately.

"Oh, I see. Of course," Grace trailed off, hearing a distant noise. She turned, glancing towards the street.

"What is it, Miss Grace?" Colleen asked, getting to her feet.

"I dunno, I thought I heard something. Let's go look, shall we?" She quickly took off her apron, the four running from the cafe to the main street.

"I can hear horses, Miss Dorothy! Listen!" Brian exclaimed, pulling excitedly on her arm. The group stood still for several moments, Dorothy shielding her eyes from the sun, eventually making out the horses moving towards them.

"They're coming! Quick, everyone, I see them!" Dorothy shouted, as the remainder of the town quickly gathered around her.

"Have they got Ma?" Brian asked, climbing onto the wagon to try and get a better look at the horses heading down the street.

"I'm not sure Brian." Grace trailed off, shielding her eyes from the morning sun.

"I can see something. I think, well, Jake's carrying someone," Hank observed, the concern in his voice somewhat of a shock to those around him.

"Oh my Lord, it's Michaela!" Dorothy exclaimed, as the small group ran towards the approaching horses.

"Ma! Ma!" Brian struggled to keep up, as they met the convoy.

"She's unconscious, quick, get her into the Clinic." Jake ordered, lifting her down into Hank's arms, as Dorothy, Grace, Colleen and Brian crowded around him.

"What's wrong with her?" Colleen asked, as they opened the Clinic door and Hank placed her onto the examination table. Jake looked awkwardly around the room.

"They," he couldn't say it. As much as he and Dr Mike had had their disagreements, even arguments in the past, she'd saved his life on more than one occasion, including the time he'd been kidnapped by the dog soldiers.

"Jake? C'mon, out with it!" Hank was impatient, this drama had taken up too much time already.

"They, violated her!" Jake stated, his words drawing an immediate silence from the room. Nobody moved or spoke for the longest time, the group looking from Jake to Michaela's unconscious form.

"Oh no," Dorothy shook her head.

"I'll take the children outside. Grace you stay with Dorothy." Jake instructed, turning and motioning for everyone to go back outside.

"But wait, I wanna help," Colleen protested, trying to get past Jake back into the room.

"Colleen, let Miss Dorothy handle it." The Reverend placed an arm around her shoulders lightly, taking her outside, as everyone filed from the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dorothy and Grace waited until Jake had closed the door, before speaking.

"Grace, the only blood I can see is on her hands. Can you see anything?" Dorothy asked, her voice low.

"Well no but, maybe she hit her head or something?" Grace suggested.

"Grace, Jake said," Dorothy paused, allowing Grace some time to take the possibility on board.

"Well, then why's she unconscious?" The two women looked up suddenly as Colleen burst into the room.

"Look, let me help you. I know what to do," Colleen swallowed and checked Michaela's pulse and breathing.

"Colleen, if Jake's right," Dorothy paused, not convinced that Michaela's daughter should be exposed to this.

"I know, but please, let me help her," Colleen stopped, noticing the blood on Michaela's hands. She quickly processed Dorothy's words, a dismayed look sweeping her face as she reached for the waistband of Michaela's skirt.

"Quick, you gotta help me examine her." Colleen stated, her voice wavering, but determined.

"But, do you think we should?" Dorothy hesitated, this didn't feel right.

"If we don't, she could die," Colleen replied, as Grace and Dorothy gently lifted Michaela's skirt, gasping when they saw the blood staining her legs and clothing.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Grace murmured, covering her mouth with her hand.

"We gotta stop the bleeding." Colleen didn't hesitate, reaching for a sheet and gauze as Dorothy and Grace removed Michaela's skirt, noticing the blood-soaked shreds of material. Colleen's jaw trembled as she began to take in the extent of the damage, drawing a breath and trying to control the bleeding with fresh gauze.

"I… I can't do anything… there's… internal damage, she needs surgery…" Colleen turned to the two ladies, tears streaming down her face.

"She's lost so much blood already," The young girl trailed off, checking Michaela's pulse again. It was weak and rapid.

"We gotta get a doctor here. Fast." Dorothy nodded in response to Colleen's words.

**X.O.X**

"Well, I told ya all so, don't know why you bothered…" Hank spat, proud that his prediction had proved accurate.

"How can you say that…" Loren muttered, gesturing to the young boy who was sitting next to him on the bench.

"Mr. Bray, what's wrong with Ma?" Brian asked, concerned. Everyone was so angry.

"Well, ah, Jake?" Loren was lost for words, not wanting to have to discuss such matters with the little boy.

"Ah, Brian, maybe you'd better ask one of the women, all right? Dorothy'll talk to you about it." Jake looked physically uncomfortable, and turned to face the Clinic door.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, stop mollycoddling the kid. He's gonna hear about it sooner or later. Brian, ya ma got violated by a pack of injuns…" Hank tipped his head, seemingly pleased with himself. After all, he'd told it like it was.

"but," Brian looked confused, not understanding what Hank had said.

"Hank, get outa here, all right!" Matthew bellowed, crossing the veranda in confrontation.

"Whatever. Don't much care to stand around here with you bunch a cry babies." Hank stormed off, across the street to his Saloon. At that moment, the Clinic door opened, the Reverend, Jake and Loren stood up expectantly, immediately reading the dismal look on Dorothy's face.

"Colleen says she needs surgery. We need to wire Denver. Oh she she's lost so much blood, she," Dorothy couldn't hold the tears back any longer, as Loren gripped her upper arm supportively.

"But I didn't see no blood, I mean apart from what was on her hands," Jake trailed off, immediately realizing what Dorothy meant.

Everyone looked up as Horace came running from the telegraph office.

"He's coming! Dr Cassidy's coming from Denver! He'll be here on the Friday stage." Horace finished, catching his breath.

"That's two days away. Colleen said if we can't stop the bleeding she'll," Dorothy paused, fighting back tears.

"Come on. We got to wire Denver again. See if there's any way to get someone here sooner. Horace, let's go." Dorothy and Horace raced back towards the telegraph office.

Grace and Colleen were back in the Clinic, looking at each other awkwardly.

"What else can we do?" Grace asked, gently wiping the blood from Michaela's hands and face. Colleen shook her head, again checking Michaela's pulse and breathing.

"I don't know. I mean, she needs surgery to repair the tears," Colleen gasped when she noticed Michaela's right hand move.

"Dr Mike! Dr Mike, wake up," Colleen grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. Grace and Colleen hovered either side of Michaela, relieved when she eventually opened her eyes.

"Where," Michaela trailed off, slowly recognizing the two people standing next to her.

"Dr Mike… you're bleeding… I can't stop it. What, tell me what to do," Colleen whispered, the tears falling from her eyes once again.

Michaela took several moments, looking between Grace and Colleen, slowly orientating herself, a pained moan escaping her lips.

"Ma, please… please tell me what to get…" Colleen begged, crying, as the door opened causing Michaela to startle.

"No," she whimpered, trying to move, but not having the strength.

"Stay still, Ma, it's only Miss Dorothy." Colleen reassured her, looking desperately at Dorothy for help.

"Oh, Dorothy, thank goodness, quick you've got to do something." Grace pleaded; gesturing to Michaela's distressed state. Dorothy nodded, nervously approaching her friend. Gently taking her hand, Dorothy spoke slowly, yet firmly.

"Michaela please, listen. Listen to me. We know you're hurt, we want to help. The doctor can't get here for two days, and we don't know what to do for you. I need you to think really hard, all right? How… how do we stop the bleeding?" Dorothy struggled to finish, overwhelmed with the extent of her friend's physical injuries.

"Sully," Michaela responded, suddenly remembering what had happened to him.

"We haven't found him, Michaela. Please, don't worry about that now. You need to tell us how to stop the bleeding." Dorothy knew this was pointless, she couldn't get through to her.

"Sully… they… they killed him," Michaela whispered, struggling to stay awake. Her face was deathly pale, and her hands cold to the touch. Grace, Colleen and Dorothy locked eyes, Dorothy, however, determined to get some sense out of her.

"Michaela, listen. Stay with us, don't close your eyes. Now tell me, how do we stop the bleeding?" Dorothy spoke again, her voice stronger and louder.

Michaela recognized the third person standing next to her. She couldn't understand what was going on, though. She knew she was in the Clinic, but didn't know how she'd gotten there. She felt tired, struggling to keep he eyes open, Michaela tried to sort through the events of the last few days. She couldn't focus on anything though. She felt a dull ache radiating from below her stomach, she remembered feeling excruciating pain, and she remembered seeing all the blood.

"Dr Mike… please… please… Ma… please try…" Colleen sobbed, running from the room distraught. Michaela tried again to move, gripping the edge of the table, trying to pull herself upright.

"Michaela, no, stay still." Dorothy gently grasped her upper arms, trying to stop her moving.

"No…. I have to…" She resisted Dorothy's touch, however unable to fight back.

"Hush, it's all right, tell us what to do." Dorothy let go of her arms, when she realized Michaela had stopped moving.

"Sully," she whispered, giving up and allowing her eyes to drop closed once again.

"No… come on, Michaela, wake up," Dorothy squeezed her upper arms, trying to rouse her.

Grace shook her head, not knowing how to help.

"If she can't tell us what to do, she's gonna bleed to death in two days," Dorothy spoke to Grace, eventually taking a breath and slapping Michaela on the cheek, trying frantically to get an answer from her.

"Michaela… Michaela! Come on! Tell us!" Dorothy continued, her voice much louder by this stage. Dorothy noticed the medical bag on the desk near them; she had an idea. Slapping the semi-conscious woman across the cheek once again, Dorothy raised her voice even louder.

"Dr Quinn! Dr Quinn! We need your help! Dr Quinn!" Dorothy smiled across at Grace as Michaela opened her eyes, a look of concerned interest crossing her face.

Michaela heard her name, seemingly coming from a long way away. She struggled against the enticing blackness to open her eyes.

"What's wrong…." she trailed off, weak, but determined to stay conscious. Someone was hurt. She was a doctor, she had to help.

"Dr Quinn, we've got severe bleeding, how do we stop it?" Dorothy demanded, dropping the volume of her voice slightly, as Michaela had responded.

"… suture… suture it…" Michaela's voice was soft, finally giving in and letting her eyelids drop once again.

"We can't. How else do we stop it?" Dorothy continued, shaking Michaela's arm, hoping desperately for a reply. She waited, looking between Grace and Michaela.

"Dr Quinn! How do we stop it!" Dorothy yelled one final time, she wasn't about to give up when she was this close.

"…pressure… packing…stop the bleeding… ice will… promote clotting," Michaela whispered, although not opening her eyes. Dorothy released her grasp on Michaela's arm, stroking her forehead tenderly.

"All right, everything will be all right. Just rest, Michaela." Dorothy and Grace exchanged smiles.

"I'll go to the ice house." Grace left the room quickly, Dorothy discreetly removing the white sheet from Michaela's waist and legs, pushing her feelings of discomfort aside; her friend's life depended on it. Taking a breath, she checked the gauze Colleen had packed internally, Dorothy reached for fresh gauze, followed Michaela's instructions and packed them firmly on top of the original ones, ensuring they were compressed tightly enough so as to stop any continued flow of blood.

"I, I'm sorry," Colleen crept silently back into the room, dried tears staining her face. Dorothy looked up, and nodded compassionately.

"It's all right, sweetheart. We managed to wake your ma up. She said something about pressure, and packing and that we needed ice?" Dorothy checked with Colleen. The young girl nodded, hesitantly checking Michaela's pulse once again.

"Right. Pressure applied to the internal packing should help the blood to clot. So should the ice. If we put some in a cloth and place it on her lower abdomen, it should help reduce the blood flow." Colleen tentatively examined the packing, relieved that the flow of blood seemed greatly reduced.

"Let's just hope we can stop it." She swallowed, relieved when Grace hurried back into the room with the ice. Together, the three women placed the cold compress on Michaela's stomach and routinely ensured there was no further blood soaking through the packing.

"Should we get her into a nightgown or something?" Grace questioned, noticing the tattered, dirt and blood stained remnants of Michaela's blouse, chemise and skirt.

"Yeah, carefully though." Colleen nodded, heading upstairs to the wardrobe where there was a range of spare clothes.

"Grace, look at this…" Dorothy sighed, as she delicately slipped Michaela's arms from her blouse, the bruises and finger marks obvious against her pale white flesh.

"We can't let Colleen see this, she's still only a young girl." Grace shook her head; gently removing the torn chemise, pulling the sheet up to cover Michaela's bruised and defiled body.

"Here." Colleen quickly re-entered the room, nightgown in hand, approaching the examination table.

"Colleen, we'll do it. Maybe you should wait outside with your brothers," Dorothy whispered, reaching to take the nightgown from her.

"But I," Colleen trailed off, forcing herself to be strong.

"Miss Dorothy's right, sweetheart. There are some things you're still too young to deal with," Grace finished, watching the blond girl's face look between Grace, Dorothy and finally Michaela.

"… I … please… if you need me," she whispered, giving them one final glance before opening the Clinic door and quickly leaving.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Colleen felt everyone get to their feet expectantly, before she'd even looked up. Closing the door softly, she turned, looking awkwardly between Jake and Matthew.

"We managed to stop the bleeding, they're just getting her changed and then we'll move her upstairs." She waited, time suddenly moving very slowly.

"Can I see her, please," Brian rushed up to Colleen trying to get past her.

"In a little while, Brian. What do you say we go find some gum drops for you?" Loren took the boy's hand, trying to pull him away.

"No! Please, let me stay. Please," he begged, squirming from Mr. Bray's grasp.

"So, what do we do now?" Matthew finally broke the silence, looking around at the solemn faces.

"I don't know. Wait, I suppose," the Reverend replied, idly running his fingers along the gold trimmed pages of the bible he carried in his right hand.

"Anyone fancy a drink while they're waiting," Hank had joined the group quietly, no-one aware of his presence until they heard his husky voice.

"You were told to leave us, Hank." Loren groused, gesturing with a wave of his arm for him to depart.

"Fine, if that's the way you feel about it. Ain't gonna stay where I'm not wanted. 'Sides more fun and games in the meadow, Custer's getting ready to finish off those injuns." Hank chuckled, seemingly surprised when he received everyone's immediate attention.

"What? You mean… Come on!" Jake ordered, heading quickly for the meadow, leaving Matthew, Colleen and Brian huddled together by the bench.

"You mean after everything that's happened he's still gonna go through with the hangings?" Colleen asked, her voice rich with utter disbelief.

"Looks like it. Come on, our place is inside," Matthew muttered, heading for the door, knocking lightly. Dorothy admitted them quickly, Brian racing immediately to Michaela's side.

"Ma?" he tugged on her arm lightly, disappointed when he didn't get a response.

"Brian, she's sleeping at the moment, just hold her hand, all right?" Grace stroked the top of the boy's head softly. Brian did as he was instructed.

"Matthew, can you carry her upstairs, we thought we might as well put her in a recovery room until Dr Cassidy gets here." Dorothy requested, sympathetic to how traumatic this must be for the children.

"Well, sure, but is it all right to move her?" He muttered, fidgeting with his hands in front of him nervously.

"We can't leave her down here for two days, besides the bleeding seems to have subsided. Just move her gently." Dorothy rested her hand supportively on his back, as Matthew drew a breath and went to Michaela's side, lifting her featherweight form from the table, crossing the room to the other door, as Brian retained his grasp on her hand.

**X.O.X**

Making their way rapidly down the main street towards the meadow, Jake and the other men watched as General Custer and his soldiers led four Indians up the stairs towards the gallows.

"Wait! This isn't necessary!" Jake yelled, quickly arriving at the General's side.

"Mind your own business, this is not your concern!" Custer brushed him off, pacing in front of the gallows, nodding with approval as the Indians were lined up over the trap doors.

"General, there really isn't any need for this, Dr Mike's been returned, we found her this morning. She's in the Clinic right now," the Reverend tried his best to sway the General from the course of action he seemed hell-bent on taking.

"Reverend, as I previously mentioned to you, I appreciate your religious objections, however these savages don't share them. Now, please leave me to get on with the task I'm here for." Custer did not seem to hear Timothy's words.

"But, you said if Dr Mike was returned, you'd call off the executions." Jake reminded him, not convinced he'd keep to his word. Custer paused, as if slowly stringing each of Jake's words together to form meaning.

"You found her?" He cleared his throat, almost not believing them.

"Yes. Early this morning. She's in the Clinic." Jake reiterated the Reverend's words.

"I see. You won't mind if I verify this for myself, I trust?" He smirked, crossing the meadow, the small group of men trailing behind him.

"Well, no, of course not," Jake finished, pausing to gather the men around him.

"Keep your mouths shut, right? He knows what really happened, and we've got a town full of dead women and children." Jake hissed, receiving silent agreement from the group, who quickly increased their pace to catch up with Custer.

**X.O.X**

"She's unconscious!" Custer bellowed, entering the upstairs recovery room looking between Michaela's body and the group of townspeople.

"Well, yes, but I assure you, she's perfectly fine. She was awake earlier weren't she, Dorothy. _Dorothy_?" Jake prodded, nudging the stunned woman slightly, communicating everything he needed to with a stern glare.

"Oh, oh, yes. Um, it seems she sustained a blow to the head. We've wired for the nearest doctor from Denver, but everything's under control." Dorothy glanced back at the General her facial expression never revealing the façade.

"Well, it appears you've no use for us after all." Custer retorted.

The few minutes that followed were tension-filled, as the General carefully eyeballed each person in the small room, before turning and swiftly exiting with an audible huff.

"Oh, thank God that worked! I thought for a minute he weren't going to believe," Jake trailed off, noticing Michaela's head move slightly.

"Ma!" Brian squealed, clutching her arm tighter, overjoyed. Nobody moved a muscle, all eyes oscillated between Brian and Michaela, the room deathly silent. Brian's was the only voice that could be heard, his determination eventually paying off.

"Ma, wake up, it's me, Brian. Please wake up!" He shook her arm, smiling when she eventually opened her eyes. The eight adults standing held their breath, not knowing where to look, fortunately once again, Brian handled the awkward moment.

"Hey Ma, it's me. Miss Dorothy and Miss Grace fixed you up, Colleen helped too. Everyone wants to make sure you're all right, I was real worried, but Matthew promised you'd be all right." He did not notice her disconcerted gaze at the sea of faces around her.

"I think we should leave," Robert E. murmured, the entire room seeming to jump at the sound of his voice. After most of the men cleared their throats in uneasiness, Loren, being closest to the door, left, everyone following until only Brian and Dorothy remained.

"Brian… come on, your ma needs her rest," Dorothy attempted to usher the boy from the room, but he wasn't moving, merely leaning in closer, carefully inspecting the various cuts and bruises on Michaela's face.

"Does your face hurt, Ma? I remember when I fell outa the tree and hurt my head. That was really bad," he trailed off, as she moved her head again.

"Brian," Michaela whispered her voice low but clear.

"Yeah, Ma, it's me," he beamed, crawling onto the edge of the bed.

"I," Michaela couldn't get the words out, feeling tears once again fall from her eyes, as she tenderly stroked the boy's fine, blond hair.

"Ma, why you crying? You can come home with us now," Brian looked bewilderedly between Michaela and Dorothy.

"I, I'm just happy to see you," Michaela whispered, not expecting the young boy to engulf her in a tight hug.

"I sure missed ya, Ma," Brian wrapped his arms around her waist snugly, not spotting the look of anguish cross her face.

"Brian, no!" Dorothy called, reaching forward and pulling the young boy back, startling him.

"But I was just," he looked mortified, noticing Michaela's eyes fall closed once again. Dorothy heaved him off the bed.

"It's all right, just wait outside for a moment, dear." She led him to the door, closing it quickly behind him.

"Michaela, I'm sorry, are you all right?" Dorothy reached for her hand, dismayed when the woman did not respond.

"Michaela?" She tried once again, however to no avail. Sighing, Dorothy left the room, finding Brian halfway down the corridor slumped on the floor against the wall.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, his voice choked up.

"Oh, it's not your fault, Brian. You weren't to know not to hug her. It's just, well her stomach's sore at the moment, and I was just a little worried you'd hurt her." Dorothy helped the child to his feet, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve, wiping his tear-stained face.

"I, didn't know." He stopped crying, his jaw trembling slightly. Dorothy thought it wise to change the subject for awhile.

"I'm sorry everyone seemed to forget about your birthday, Brian," she consoled.

"That's ok. I got everything I wanted," Brian smiled.

"You did?" Dorothy asked, forcing a smile.

"Yeah. I got my Ma back," he replied without missing a beat. She bent down to the little boy, engulfing him in a hug.

"You are a very thoughtful, unselfish boy, Brian. Your Ma's lucky to have a son like you." Dorothy squeezed his arm affectionately, noticing him look towards the recovery room.

"Miss Dorothy, is she gonna get better?" Brian whispered, staring down at the floor.

"I hope so, Brian. We just gotta pray that Dr Cassidy gets here as soon as he can." Dorothy sighed, tidying up the boy's misplaced hair.

"So he can make her stop bleeding?" Brian continued.

"That's right." Dorothy paused, knowing that Michaela's physical ordeal was only going to play a small part in her complete recovery.

"Miss Dorothy, why can't Colleen fix her? Or Jake, he used to fix everyone before Ma came." Brian frowned.

"Because she needs a proper doctor, Brian. She has to have an operation to stop the bleeding." Dorothy felt awkward discussing this with the young boy, just talking about it made her remember all the blood she'd seen.

"Miss Dorothy, what did Jake mean before? What's violetted?" Brian reached into his pocket and found some taffy, popping it into his mouth as he waited for a response.

"You mean violated, Brian?" She cleared her throat awkwardly, hoping that someone would come into the corridor and distract them.

"Yeah, what Jake said happened to Ma. Is that why she had all the blood on her hands?" He questioned, finishing off his piece of candy.

"Well, ah, Brian," she hesitated, knowing that given the circumstances, this was something he was only going to hear more about over the upcoming weeks.

"Brian, did your ma tell you ah, about the birds and the bees?" Dorothy waited, kneeling down in front of the young boy.

"No, but I know where babies come from. What's that got to do with Ma?" He queried.

"Well, ah, tell me what you know." Dorothy ran her hand through her hair, wishing she didn't have to have this conversation. Brian looked away, scuffing his feet on the ground.

"Ermm, I don't wanna, it's, it's embarrassin'." He refused to look to her.

"No, it's all right, you can talk about it with me." Dorothy smiled, nodding affirmatively.

"Well, it's like with animals. When the ma and pa get married, they sleep in the same bed and they hug and kiss, and well, you know; the pa puts the baby into the ma, " Brian trailed off looking thoroughly uncomfortable, however managing to convince Dorothy that he understood.

"Well, now Brian, sometimes men do that with a woman when they're not married." She held his hands tightly, watching him take in her words.

"You mean like Hank's girls at the Saloon? The entertainin'?" Brian quickly replied, interested, however still not sure what this had to do with his Ma.

"Exactly. And well, sometimes, sometimes bad things can happen to women, Brian. Sometimes men do that to a woman when she doesn't want to. That's called rape, Brian. And when a woman's been raped, people say she's been violated." Dorothy's voice lowered, trying to come to terms with what her best friend must have endured.

Brian remained silent, digging his hands into his pockets, looking between the floor and Dorothy.

"Oh." Brian looked suitably concerned, although was not able to come close to fully understanding the emotional significance of Dorothy's words. She reached out to embrace the young boy tightly.

"It'll be all right, Brian. Dr Cassidy will get here and he'll make her better. And then, we just all gotta be there for her, to help her get through what happened." Dorothy felt the tears well up in her eyes, as she tightened her grip around the boy.

"What do you say we go sit with your ma for awhile, Brian?" Dorothy smiled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Brian nodded firmly, taking her hand.

They stepped into the room where Michaela lay sleeping. Brian carefully approached the bed, and brushed the hair back off his mother's face, very careful not to actually touch the bed again.

"It'll be all right, Ma, you'll see," Brian spoke softly to her, beginning to hum several bars of his favorite lullaby.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Grace brushed the front of her dress off, picking up the tray and making her way across the street to the clinic. Arriving at the porch, she acknowledged the handful of men still lurking outside, Robert E. opening the door for her.

"Thank-you," Grace whispered, with a smile, turning as she heard Hank's raspy voice.

"Your wastin' your time," he snarled, retrieving an apple from his pocket and carefully cutting into it with a knife.

"Don't pay no attention to him, Grace." The Reverend nodded, closing the door behind her, as he turned back to the group.

"Hank, I thought you were asked to leave?" Timothy leaned up against the clinic door, looking between Jake and Loren for approval.

"A man can go where he pleases. 'Sides, my place's deader than a graveyard, no-one's in a drinkin' mood. The girls are all off in their rooms sulking." He shook his hair back from his face.

"Well if you're gonna stand there, just keep your comments to yourself." Jake muttered, folding his arms.

"Where's Horace?" Robert E. attempted to change the subject, noticing the one person absent from the group.

"He said he's stayin' in the telegraph office 'til the Doctor gets here, see if there's any update." Jake answered, watching as the light began to fade from the street, and a chill was felt in the air.

"I just can't believe what's happened, ya know? Like the last week's been some horrible nightmare," Matthew murmured, not being able to shake the feeling that nothing would ever be the same again.

"Try not to worry too much, Matthew. You'll have to stay in town for a few days anyway, at least until Dr Mike recovers." Timothy consoled, patting the young man's shoulder supportively.

"But what if she," Matthew stopped himself mid-sentence. No. He wasn't even going to consider it.

"Don't think that, lad. She'll be fine, you'll see. If anyone's strong enough to get through this, it's Dr Mike," Loren contributed, his jaw firm emphasizing the confidence he felt in his words.

"Yeah, but given everything that's happened… All the gossip… Maybe it woulda been better." Jake didn't continue either, receiving simultaneous glares of disapproval from the Reverend, Robert E. and Loren.

"You can't say that," Matthew reacted, the raw anger in his voice silencing everyone in the room; well, almost everyone.

"Sure he can. Seems any decent woman woulda killed herself 'fore she laid down with the red man." Hank speared the knife into the first half of his apple, biting into it noisily.

"Hank!" Jake, the Reverend and Robert E. bellowed simultaneously, Robert E. being the closest to Matthew, managing to pull him off Hank as he threw a ferocious punch. Everyone remained silent for several moments, as Matthew caught his breath and calmed down.

"I can't stand this, standin' around like someone's died. There must be something we can do," Loren trailed off, shaking his head.

"I know what you mean, Loren, but there isn't anything. Might as well try and get back to work, wait 'til Doc Cassidy arrives," Jake replied.

"Wonder what happened to Sully? He said he was gonna find her," Matthew pondered, idly kicking a stone with his right foot.

"Well, obviously he didn't." Hank munched his apple, finishing the second half in one mouthful.

"He could still be out there; hurt. He could be," The Reverend silently prayed that there was some other explanation.

"Don't even say it," Matthew finished, taking a deep breath.

**X.O.X**

Dorothy looked up as she heard footsteps on the stairs, getting to her feet and quietly pacing across the room to the doorway.

"Oh, Grace, you didn't have to do that." Dorothy smiled, helping her set the tray down on the table.

"Well, I figured you'd be stayin' with her tonight at least. Brought enough for everybody." Grace smiled, noticing the small boy asleep in a chair by Michaela's bedside.

"Should I wake him?" she continued, handing Dorothy a bowl of soup.

"Best do, I suppose. He hasn't eaten all day. Been frettin' too much." Dorothy sighed, approaching Brian and squeezing his shoulder to wake him.

"Ma?" He wiped his eyes, looking confused.

"No, Brian, she's sleepin'. Here, Miss Grace brought us some supper." Dorothy handed him the bowl of soup.

"I'm not hungry." He tried to pass up the soup, Dorothy however insisting.

"Brian, you haven't eaten anything today. Now, if you want to stay here with your ma, you'll eat something." Dorothy turned back to Grace as Brian reluctantly sipped his soup.

"Can I have a word with you?" Dorothy whispered, she and Grace stepping out into the hallway.

"Anything I can do to help?" Grace asked, resting a hand supportively on Dorothy's shoulder.

"I just don't know. I checked earlier, and I think the bleeding's stopped, so at least she's not in immediate danger, but I'm only guessin' at this. I feel like I should be doing something more, not just sitting around, waiting." Dorothy sighed, exasperated.

"Ain't there nothin' you can do, is there? Did she wake up properly before?" Grace asked, checking that Brian was eating his soup.

"Only for a minute or so. Brian's relief got the better of him, and he jumped on the bed, hugging her. I was worried that he'd hurt her, as she passed out again straight after, but as I said, I wouldn't know the first thing about internal injuries. That reminds me, you haven't seen Colleen about, have you?" Dorothy asked, suddenly aware of the girl's absence.

"Well, come to think of it, I haven't. Not since General Custer left, anyway." Grace looked momentarily concerned.

"Hope she's all right. I'll send Matthew to find her." Dorothy headed downstairs, as Grace returned to the recovery room.

**X.O.X**

Heads rose once again as the Clinic door opened, and Dorothy stepped out onto the porch.

"Any news?" Jake enquired, moving forward away from the wall he'd been leaning against.

"Well, she came to for a little while before, but didn't say anything really. Suppose she's better off resting until the Doctor gets here. Anyone seen Colleen about?" Dorothy glanced around the porch, Matthew reacting immediately.

"No, come to think of it. I thought she was upstairs with you guys," he trailed off, the look of growing concern apparent in his eyes.

"No, she left just as Michaela stirred, when you all did. I thought she was down here?" Dorothy frowned, noticing the panicked look cross Matthew's face.

"I'll go find her. She probably just wanted some time alone, all things considered." He tried to sound calm, however the speed at which he departed suggested he was anything but.

"Matthew," The Reverend tried to stop the young man, Dorothy intervening and gripping his arm loosely.

"Let him go. It's probably best they have some time to talk on their own, anyway. It's gonna be hard for the children; Brian's refusing to leave her side. I had to practically force food down his throat." Dorothy informed the group, with a dismayed expression.

"Aw, the poor lad. He wouldn't understand what's going on." Loren sighed, having developed quite a close relationship with the small boy, becoming the grandson he'd never had.

"Well, I spoke to him earlier and he understands," Dorothy replied.

"You don't mean you _told _him?" Loren retorted quickly, stunned.

"Of course. I had to. After Jake's little outburst downstairs, he wanted to know." Dorothy defended, lowering her voice slightly.

"But, he's just a child. He doesn't need to know about these things." Loren was adamant that this was not a subject children should be exposed to.

"On the contrary, Loren. He's gonna hear about it time and time again from now on, I don't see the point in hiding him from the truth." Dorothy had her left hand on her hip by this stage, not enjoying having to justify what had already been an impossible decision.

"People, please!" The Reverend intervened quickly. "We're not going to do any good fighting amongst ourselves. I'm inclined to agree with Dorothy. Shielding him from reality is only going to make it harder in the long run. Now, I appreciate that everyone's upset by what's happened, but there's nothing we can do standing around here. I suggest we all get on with our lives until we hear any news. Jake?" Timothy cleared his throat, looking across at Jake for support.

"I agree, Reverend. We can't do anything out here. Might as well head on home." Jake took the initiative to stride to the edge of the porch, preparing to step off, when suddenly he saw something moving in the distance.

"I don't believe it!" he gasped, quickly obtaining everyone's attention.

**X.O.X**

"Colleen! Colleen?" Matthew had searched from the Clinic, to the Mercantile, all to no avail.

"Colleen!" He called again, running over the bridge toward the church. Again it was empty. Turning, he noticed the door leading into the schoolhouse ajar, immediately heading towards it. Due to the recent commotion and threats of hangings, school had been cancelled for the past two days.

"Colleen?" Matthew called, softly this time, as he pushed the door open and scanned the desks. Closing the door as quietly as he could behind him, he paced across to the desk in the front row, where Colleen sat hunched over, head in her hands.

"Colleen? Everyone was startin' to get worried about you," Matthew whispered, surprised when she didn't budge. Gingerly taking a seat next to her, he sighed.

"It's just, it's not fair, ya know? She was always tryin' to do right by everyone, especially the Indians." Colleen raised her head, revealing her red, tear-stained face.

"I know. It's not fair. But nothin' is. Weren't fair that Pa left, that Ma died. Life's not meant to be fair. Life's just life. A bunch of stuff that happens and we just have to do our best each day to cope with whatever comes our way. I mean, as angry as I feel inside, I know there ain't nothin' I can do. All the dog soldiers are dead, we killed 'em this morning, so there's nothin' else can be done, 'cept be there for each other and Dr Mike. That's all we can do." Matthew turned, not sure he'd said the right thing. He didn't think he was any good at talking about serious things.

"You're right, Matthew. I just, I feel so angry. Ma trusted the Indians. She went out of her way to try and make life better for 'em, and look what happened," Colleen pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, wiping her eyes and cheeks.

"I know, Colleen, I know. But you gotta remember, it was the dog soldiers who done it, not the Cheyenne people we knew." Matthew got to his feet, gesturing for Colleen to come with him.

"I don't wanna go back there," she whispered, looking back down at her desk.

"I know it's hard, but we got to. Everyone there's on our side. They just wanna help in their own way. Grace's brought supper to the Clinic, and Dorothy and Brian are sitting with Dr Mike. We should be together, as a family." He managed to convince her to stand from the desk and follow him out of the schoolroom, back to the Clinic.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**X.O.X**

**Thursday, 11th May, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela opened her eyes to the bright morning sunlight which filled the window, and blinked several times as she oriented herself. She felt as if all feeling returned to her body like a wave washing over her, the events of the previous week invading her mind simultaneously as the physical pain hit her consciousness. Hearing herself exhale, Michaela looked down to see her hands resting on the patchwork quilt either side of her body, frowning as she saw the abrasions on her knuckles. Gazing past her hands, she recognized the light colored hand-sewn quilt, lifting her head to confirm that she was in fact in a recovery room at the Clinic. Although she felt momentarily reassured by the sense of familiarly and safety that flowed over her, Michaela quickly became aware of other discomforts, and was suddenly reminded that the traumatic images filling her head were in fact reality.

Delicately slipping a hand underneath the quilt, Michaela gingerly felt the material packing between her thighs, instantaneously recalling the blood covering her hands and realizing she hadn't made it this far on her own. The confusion of missing time only added to her panic; how had she got here? What day was it? Michaela glanced down noticing the white nightdress she was in, panic soon being coupled with mortification at the thought that someone had tended to her injuries; someone had changed her.

Michaela knew she had always been over-protective of her privacy, possibly because she'd grown up as the baby, resulting in countless hours of being fussed over and dressed by her four older sisters. Her intense degree of modesty was only strengthened as she progressed academically through college and medical school, having to fend off the unwanted attention of many male peers, to whom her scholarly accomplishments were of far less importance than her courting habits. As a result, she had always dressed conservatively, trying desperately to be taken seriously as a medical student and doctor, rather than as an available woman. David had been the only man she'd allowed into her heart, for he respected her primarily as a colleague, as an equal. It was only after months of working together, that Michaela began to let her guard down, and allow herself to feel something more than professional regard for the fellow doctor.

Pushing the reminiscence of David quickly away, Michaela was aware of another memory niggling at her. She tried to concentrate. Sully. She remembered the feelings of his broad arms around her shoulders, rocking her soothingly in his arms. Michaela gasped audibly, as she relieved the memory of him falling from the cliff. She heard herself call his name over and over. Brushing her hands over her face in an attempt to wipe the tears from her eyes, Michaela saw something move out of the corner of her eye.

"Ma!" Brian threw the blanket back, bounding out of the cot across the room, quickly arriving at her bedside.

"Ma! You're awake! I knew you'd wake up again. Miss Dorothy said to let you sleep, but I knew you'd wake up!" Brian couldn't contain his elation.

Michaela was momentarily startled by the sound and movement, jolting her back into the present moment. It was as though a year's worth of memories flashed through her mind in an instant, suddenly remembering who the young boy was, feeling as though she'd caught up with reality.

"Brian." Michaela reached her right arm out to take his hand.

"How you feelin'?" he asked. After the events of the previous day he was very careful not to touch the bed.

Michaela looked away from him, down at the patchwork quilt. She tried to swallow, realizing how dry her mouth was.

"Brian, could you get me a glass of water, please?" Michaela asked, trying to determine what she was really after; the water, or the solitude.

"Sure," he smiled, quickly leaving the room. Michaela sighed as she heard the sound of his footsteps descending the stairs.

Feeling weak once again, Michaela let her head drop back down to the pillows supporting her, not realizing her eyes had closed until she felt the hand on her arm.

"Michaela?" She flinched automatically against the contact, however recognizing the feminine voice, opening her eyes to confirm its identity.

"Dorothy," she whispered.

"I sent Brian to Grace's for some breakfast, thought you'd want some time on your own for awhile." The red-haired woman pulled a chair closer to the side of the bed, sitting down.

"Thank-you." Michaela wasn't sure what was happening, she could hear her voice, but didn't feel as though she was able to concentrate on what she was saying.

"Michaela, we wired Denver for a doctor, he'll be here tomorrow. We didn't know what else to do until then," Dorothy trailed off, knowing she should be informing Michaela of her physical condition, however not convinced her friend was fully able to take in her words.

"Doctor?" Michaela heard a familiar word, although she couldn't process anything else.

"Michaela, are you feeling all right?" Dorothy paused, now sure Michaela wasn't following her. Waiting several moments she brushed her arm again, receiving no response. Shaking her head, Dorothy leaned back in the chair, deciding it was best to let her sleep.

Brian ran down the side of the Clinic, barely able to maintain his balance, increasing the speed of his pace with each stride. Turning and running across to the open space, he looked frantically for Miss Grace, spotting her cleaning a table.

"Miss Grace, Miss Grace!" he reached her, puffing as he continued talking.

"Ma's awake! Miss Dorothy wants you to bring her some breakfast!" Brian finally stopped long enough to regain his breath, pulling eagerly on the woman's skirt.

"Slow down there, mister. I've only got two hands." Grace finished setting the table, heading back to the stove, grabbing a tray and filling it with a plate, bowl and cup.

"I'm sorry, but Miss Dorothy told me to ask you. Come on, let's go!" he rushed her, unaware of the reality that she actually had to prepare the tray.

"Brian, I'm fixin' a tray as quick as I can here. Why don't you get me a napkin, and cutlery, all right?" She gestured to the nearby table where the utensils and linen was kept, worried the boy would be burnt jumping around the hot stove. Brian quickly grabbed the requested items, watching eagerly as Grace buttered some toast and delicately positioned it on the plate, adding some bacon. Reaching for another bowl, Grace spooned a small amount of the preserved apples into the small glass dish on the tray, and filled the cup with steaming hot coffee.

"Ma said she wanted water too," Brian interjected, as if instantly calming enough to recall Michaela's words.

"Right," Grace smiled, filling a cup with water and adding it to the contents of the tray, following behind Brian as he skipped back towards the Clinic.

**X.O.X**

Elijah Woods frowned, seeing the young boy rush up to the black woman, pulling on her clothing with energy. The short, red-haired man cleared his throat, leaving two bits on the table as payment for his breakfast, reached for his hat and stood from the table. Having just arrived in the small town, he was surprised as the emptiness. He'd been dropped off by the stagecoach which had been three days late, an hour earlier, and stepped into what reminded him of a ghost town. Gazing up and down the deserted street, the only other building appearing to show any signs of life was the Saloon. Pushing his hat squarely down onto his head, Elijah made his way across the street, checking his jacket pocket for a notepad and pencil with a wry smile.

**X.O.X**

Dorothy looked up as she heard Brian's feet hitting the wooden stairs as he ran up them, swinging on the doorframe as his skidded into the room, his face dropping when he saw Michaela's closed eyes.

"Miss Dorothy?" his shoulders fell, looking between her and his Ma.

"She went back to sleep Brian. It's for the best, you know that." Dorothy soothed, rubbing his back lovingly. Brian moved out of the way as Grace bustled into the room, setting the tray down on the table in the corner, turning to Dorothy a little confused.

"Brian said Dr Mike was awake… that you wanted a tray brought over?" Grace questioned, Dorothy ushering the young boy from the room, closing the door after he'd departed.

"She was, but she fell asleep again. I honestly don't know what else to do, Grace. I mean, it has been a day, and she hasn't had anything to eat or drink. What do you think?" Dorothy didn't feel right making all these decisions without at least another adult's opinion.

"Well, I, um wouldn't know but I suppose food would increase her strength." Grace provided, trying to be of some support to Dorothy, who, after spending most of the night cramped in the small chair by Michaela's bedside, was looking extremely frazzled and exhausted.

"You're right. If we can just get her to eat a bit, she can sleep as much as she wishes after." Dorothy nodded, stepping to the side of the bed as Grace reached for the bowl of stewed apples and the cup of water.

"Michaela… come on, wake up… Michaela?" Dorothy pleaded, tentatively brushing the Doctor's right arm. Fortunately, she stirred quickly, again taking a moment to familiarize herself with her location.

"Michaela, Grace and I are here, we want you to try and have some breakfast." Dorothy watched as Michaela struggled to interpret her words.

"Dorothy?" she whispered a weak response, managing to keep her eyes open.

"Michaela, try and sit up a little, if you can," Dorothy deliberately phrased her words as a statement, moving her arms to Dr Mike's shoulders, encouraging her to move.

Once Dorothy had very awkwardly assisted Michaela into a semi-seated position, Grace handed Dorothy the small glass bowl and cup.

"Here, Michaela, drink this." Dorothy brought the cup to Michaela's lips, nodding in encouragement as Michaela began drinking the clear liquid.

"That's it," Dorothy smiled, as she finished the water, handing the empty cup back to Grace in exchange for the glass bowl and spoon.

"It's just some preserved apples, nothing too heavy," Dorothy brought the small spoon again to Michaela's mouth, looking back at Grace as Michaela slowly devoured the bowl of fruit.

"Good. Michaela, do you feel up to some toast?" Dorothy asked, hopeful, however merely grateful her friend had consumed something.

"Maybe later?" Michaela responded, her voice stronger.

"Fine," Dorothy paused, suddenly not knowing what to say. Turning to Grace, the red haired woman sought assistance, however Grace diverted her glance, equally uncertain of how to proceed.

**X.O.X**

Hank looked up as the Saloon door swung open, flipping the lid closed on his money tin cautiously, a hand going customarily to his holster.

"Sure is quiet around here." Elijah shook his head, sauntering over to the bar.

"Yeah, don't get many people wantin' a drink at nine in the mornin'" Hank raised an eyebrow, tentatively removing his hand from the handle of the gun.

"No, I meant this little town you've got here. Had some breakfast over at the cafe, only people I saw were a black woman and a little boy. You the only man in this town?" Elijah smirked, tipping his hat.

Hank chuckled, flattered by the notion, pouring them both a glass of sarsaparilla.

"Nah, not really. They've all gone out on a wild goose chase," Hank sipped his drink, curious as to who this man even was.

"Ah, I see. Chasing after?" Elijah prompted, intrigued.

"I erm… 'fraid I haven't seen you 'round these parts. Where you from?" Hank queried, looking the man up and down suspiciously.

"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself, did I. Elijah Woods, Denver Daily Chronicle. Got word the army'd got into some strife with the Indians, Thought I'd best come check it out. Let the rest of the world know we're putting the red man in his place." Elijah smiled, observing Hank's keen interest.

"Ah, so you're a reporter, eh? Well, the army left yesterday, called the hangings off." Hank smelt a profit to be made, generously refilling their glasses.

"I see. They got the woman back then?" Elijah had only heard that the renegade Cheyenne had kidnapped a woman, and Custer had threatened to hang the whole village unless she was returned.

"In a manner of speaking," Hank was being specifically vague, more interested in talking money. After a moment of silence, Elijah understood his motives.

"Of course, where are my manners. I suppose I should pay you for those drinks," The rise in his voice at the end of the sentence conveyed the insinuation.

"Well, yeah, ya could do," Hank pushed his hair back from his face, his face breaking out into a greedy grin. Elijah nodded, slipping the coins from his pocket, pleased when the payment met with Hank's approval.

"Hangings were all set to go ahead couple days ago, but Custer let the children talk him outa it." Hank paused, as Elijah retrieved his pencil and notepad from his front pocket.

"Kids?" Elijah scribbled the details down enthusiastically.

"The woman's," Hank cleared his throat, not wanting to give too much away.

"So who is she, how'd they get her back?" Elijah was starting to get mildly inpatient, a hand going to his pocket in temptation. Hank grinned again, continuing to recount the events.

"Michaela's the Doc, always defended the injuns, least 'til now I guess," Hank took a sip of his drink, accepting the fifty cent piece and carrying on with his story.

"So Brian, her youngest, convinced Custer to go look for her and the men joined 'em. Army gave up Tuesday night, men brought her into town early Wednesday mornin'" Hank concluded, Elijah's expression indicating he was more than satisfied with the information.

"I see. So where is everyone now?" the report pressed on, turning a page in his notebook.

"Went off chasing a wolf. Long story, see, Sully went after Michaela when they first took her, disappeared." Hank saw the bewilderment in the man's eyes, immediately providing more information.

"Sully's our erm… resident injun tamer… Will 'least he thinks he is. Spent the last few years livin' with them, dressing like 'em. Practically one of them. Anyway, he and the Doc, well, some people 'round here reckon there was somethin' goin' on, so he went out lookin' for her. The wolf he's always with came back into town yesterday carrying Sully's beads, so the men went out tryin' to find him. Ask me it's a waste of time," Hank shook his head, turning as Myra stumbled in from her bedroom.

"Hank, what's all noise down here? Some of us are tryin' to sleep." She looked between her employer and the newcomer.

"Myra, like to introduce you to a friend of mine. Mr. Elijah Woods. He's from Denver. Come to report the little trouble we've been havin'." Hank nodded to Elijah.

"Morning, miss. Sorry to disturb you. And please, call me Eli." He turned back to Hank.

"So where might I find this doctor, then? I'm sure my readers back home would love to hear about her ordeal." He slipped his hand into his pocket, handing Hank a dollar coin.

"Hank! You're makin' money off this! I can't believe you!" Myra's jaw dropped in horror when she noticed the transaction.

"Mind your own business, get back to bed. Over at the Clinic, mister, just across the street." Hank waved his arm in the general direction.

"Hank! You really are lower than a snake!" Myra turned, dashing back to her room in disgust.

"Much obliged, Sir. Also, I'll need somewhere to stay for a few days? You be able to help me with that?" Elijah slipped his notebook and pen back into his pocket, approaching the French door.

"Of course. Consider the finest room I've got yours. Also can fix you up with some… company… first one's on the house," Hank gestured to the doorway in which Myra just left from.

"Appreciate your hospitality. Mornin'" Elijah strode out into the open air once again, looking around to get his bearings. Time to get himself a story.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Grace moved down the stairs and through the corridor into the examination room, all three children looking up in expectation.

"How is she, Miss Grace?" Matthew stood, resting his arms behind his back awkwardly.

"Doing better, I think. She had some breakfast and Miss Dorothy's just helping her freshen up a bit." Grace smiled.

"So we can go see her?" Brian chirped up, looking eagerly towards the stairs.

"Just give them a few minutes, Brian. Colleen can go up and check a bit later." Matthew opened the door as Grace finished talking with Brian, quickly leaving with the empty tray.

"Let's go, Brian. We'll go over the livery, see how the horse is coming along." Matthew thought it best to give Colleen some time with Dr Mike, without Brian around.

"I don't wanna. Hank won't let me have her anyway." He sulked, kicking the leg of the exam table angrily.

"Come on, we'll see what we can do. I'll talk to Hank again," Matthew pushed Brian towards the open door.

"Aww, Matthew," Brian resisted, eventually giving in, heading outside.

**X.O.X**

Just as he was about to step off the Saloon porch, Eli noticed a door open, shielding his eyes from the bright morning sun, he recognized the small boy from the cafe, and decided to approach him.

"Morning there, son. Hey, didn't I see you over at the cafe earlier?" Elijah reached into his pocket, finding some mints and handing one to the child.

Brian frowned, knowing he shouldn't be taking the candy, however too angry to really care at this moment, quickly popping the sweet into his mouth.

"Yeah," he responded, looking up at the stranger.

"Who are you?" Matthew arrived quickly by Brian's side, glaring suspiciously at the man.

"Eli Woods, and you are?" He smiled, extending his hand.

"Matthew Cooper, can I help you?" Matthew reluctantly shook hands, never having seen the man in town before.

"Well, I heard, that is, I was wondering, is there a doctor around?" He ventured, looking between the two boys.

"Ma's in," Brian turned and pointed, Matthew quickly cutting him off.

"No, I'm afraid not. There's a doctor from Denver arrivin' tomorrow if you need one." Matthew cleared his throat, indicating for Brian to hush.

"Oh, I see. Thanks," Eli nodded, heading off in the other direction, glancing back over his shoulder as the two boys went on their way towards the livery. Smiling to himself, Eli turned back, ensuring the boys were well away, before approaching the door Brian had come out from, knocking loudly.

**X.O.X**

"Oh, Colleen," Dorothy looked up as the young girl poked her head around the door, entering the room hesitantly.

"Matthew suggested I come up… Hi Ma," Colleen smiled warmly, pleased that Dr Mike was awake and looking brighter.

"Colleen, here, you sit for awhile, I'm just gonna go downstairs." Dorothy had helped Michaela into a fresh nightgown, and changed the sheets, collecting the old linen and leaving the room.

Colleen sat down next to the bed, uneasily, but relieved.

"Are you feelin' all right, is there anything I can," Colleen trailed off, as Michaela shook her head.

"No," Michaela reached out her hand, as Colleen quickly grasped it, affectionately.

"Oh Ma, we were so worried," Colleen felt her eyes fill with tears, she swallowed, trying to stop herself from crying.

"I know, it'll be all right. I'm going to be fine," Michaela paused, noticing the wave of concern sweep over Colleen's face.

"But you… I mean… we did what we could, but you need a doctor," Colleen spoke very awkwardly, trying to remain unemotional.

"Dorothy told me… how bad," Michaela sighed, looking away.

Colleen took a quick breath, knowing that she had to be strong. However difficult this was for her, she knew it was only tougher for her ma. Remembering the conversations she'd had with Michaela regarding professionalism, Colleen forced herself to remember what they'd done the day before.

"Bad. When they brought you in, Miss Dorothy and Miss Grace didn't know what to do. You were unconscious and there was lots of blood on your hands. I remembered what you'd done when Miss Dorothy was ill… I examined you best I could, Ma. You were bleeding a lot, and there was internal damage, but there weren't anything I could do, apart from putting in some packing and using ice compresses. We managed to get the bleeding stopped, anyway, but you'll need surgery to suture the lacerations." Colleen glanced up to see Michaela looking strangely at her.

"Ma?" she whispered, suddenly afraid she's done the wrong thing.

"You saved my life, Colleen," Michaela extended her other arm, drawing the young girl into a hug. Colleen couldn't contain her tears any longer, sobbing on Michaela's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Ma. I'm so sorry," Colleen wept, wishing she could take back what had happened, the fact that she couldn't only making her feel worse.

"Sshh, I know." Michaela rubbed her back, feeling tears run down her own cheeks.

**X.O.X**

Dorothy entered the examination room, setting the linen down on the table, looking around for anything else which required washing. Scanning around the room, she was distracted by a knock at the door.

"In here!" she called, expecting it to be Grace or one of the children, as no-one else was in town at the moment. Looking up as the door opened, she was surprised by the stranger who entered the room, slipping his hat from his head with a smile.

"Morning, ma'am, the young lad outside said I could find the Doctor in here?" He was still trying to comprehend the idea of a lady doctor. It was not something he'd ever come across before. She must certainly be a strong and intelligent woman to have attained such a high status.

"I, I'm sorry… you're mistaken," Dorothy spoke, she wasn't sure what to say, and didn't trust his smile nor the confident gleam in his eyes.

"Well, this is the Clinic and the man in the Saloon said I'd find the lady doctor here," he smiled, noticing her awkwardness.

"Well, I, I'm afraid she's not seeing anyone for awhile. But we're having a doctor arrive tomorrow, so if you need to see someone, I suggest you come back then?" Dorothy stumbled, attempting to usher him towards the wooden door.

"Oh, I don't, no. Allow me to introduce myself. Elijah Woods, call me Eli. I just arrived from Denver, I'm with the Denver Daily Chronicle." He smiled that twisted, unconvincing smile once again, extending his hand. Dorothy refused, opening the door, suddenly realizing exactly why he was here.

"I think you'd better leave, Mr. Woods. I've nothing to say to you," she indicated towards the door.

"Well, give me a chance to persuade you, Doctor. From what I hear, you've had a pretty difficult few days." He pulled his wallet from his jacket pocket, removing twenty dollars in notes, offering it to her.

"No, I mean, I'm not… I mean, you'd better get out of here!" Dorothy suddenly realized what was going on. As much as she wanted to set him straight that she wasn't who he assumed she was, she didn't want to spend another moment in this man's company.

"All right, I apologize; I certainly didn't mean to cause you further distress. I just know my readers back in Denver would really enjoy hearing about the horrors of being captured and held prisoner by a Cheyenne war party." He stepped out onto the porch.

"Mr. Woods, you're wasting your time!" Dorothy spoke forcefully, slamming the door behind him. Heading back across the street to the Saloon, Eli decided to relax for a few hours, he could always return later.

**X.O.X**

Colleen and Michaela remained locked in each others arms until their cheeks were stained with dried tears and their eyes red from crying. Colleen, who was perched on the edge of the bed, pulled away, feeling better.

"You sure there's nothing I can do?" she asked, squeezing Michaela's hand.

"Really, everything's fine." Michaela smiled, relieved that Colleen had calmed down.

"Well, here, what about if I fix your hair up for ya, it's still all messy," Colleen rose from the bed, quickly locating a brush.

Michaela looked down, realizing just how knotted it was. She gave a small nod.

Sitting once again on the edge of the bed, Colleen gently pulled Michaela's hair over her right shoulder, brushing it softly until she'd removed all the tangles.

"There. I'll just plait it, keep it out ya way," Colleen smiled, beginning the significant task of gathering the long tresses into three even bunches.

**X.O.X**

"She's looking good, Brian. You did the right thing." Matthew stroked the horse's nose, inspecting her healed leg.

"I know, but Hank went back on the deal… He weren't fair." Brian muttered, searching his pockets for some taffy.

"Life isn't fair sometimes, Brian," Matthew responded, remembering the conversation he'd had yesterday with his sister.

Brian remained silent, which was very out-of-character for him. He was not able to find any candy in his pockets, and kicked the fence post in frustration.

"Hey, what's up with you? You've been kickin' things all day!" Matthew frowned, bending down to Brian's side.

"Nothin'," Brian refused to look at him, returning his attention superficially to the horse. He patted the mare's neck and scratched her chin, but his heart wasn't in it.

"Brian, are you worried about what happened to Dr Mike?" Matthew knew he'd have to talk to Brian eventually, but wasn't ready for it to be now.

"Nah, she's ok… It's just, everyone's making such a fuss, they won't let me see her." Brian dropped his head, feeling rejected.

"It's coz of what happened to her, Brian. Miss Dorothy's just making sure she's comfortable," Matthew spoke awkwardly, not sure how much Brian was aware of.

"But Colleen fixed her up, and the doctor's gonna operate, so why can't I sit with her. Why won't she talk to me or nothin'?" Brian had no connation of the underlying emotional trauma his mother had endured.

Matthew looked between the horse and his little brother, wishing them to be interrupted so he didn't have to explain further. After several moments, he glanced back to Brian, who was desperate for a response.

"Brian, when they brought Dr Mike in, did you see the blood on her hands?" Matthew sighed, not sure if he should even be talking about this with his younger brother.

"Yeah, coz of the… the rape." He searched for the word Dorothy had used, proudly answering Matthew's question.

"You know about that?" Matthew raised his eyebrows, certainly not expecting that word to have come from his younger brother's mouth.

"Yeah, Miss Dorothy told me what happened yesterday. So?" Brian was getting frustrated, as if they were going around in circles.

"Well Brian, there are some things that happen in life that don't hurt us like when we cut our finger or stub our toe but they still hurt us. Like, you know when Ma died, we felt really, really sad and we cried. Now Ma dying didn't hurt us physically, but it hurt our heart, right? Because we loved her." Matthew watched as Brian seemed to follow him.

"Yeah but Ma ain't dead," he continued.

"No, she's not dead, Brian. But, well, right, you know when Ingrid and I kiss, we both like it and it's a way of showing each other that we love each other," Matthew sighed, afraid Brian was going to get angry again.

"So?" his eyebrows bunched together in confusion.

"Well, I wouldn't kiss Ingrid if she didn't want me to, or if she said 'No', would I?" Matthew continued, trying to think of an analogy that Brian could appreciate.

"No, coz it'd make her angry." Brian quickly quipped.

"Exactly. And I love her, so I don't want her to be angry. But what if someone else kissed her and she didn't want him to? How would that make her feel?" Matthew went back to stroking the horse's nose.

"Angry. Upset. Like when Miss Chambers hit me, I was really scared coz I told her not to but she did it anyway." Brian vividly remembered receiving the canings.

"Yeah, you felt bad because she did something to you that you didn't want her to, right? And you couldn't stop it because she was stronger than you. It's the same for Dr Mike." Matthew was satisfied that Brian had sort of been able to appreciate why Michaela's injuries ran far deeper than physical harm.

"So… so what he…he did… was like kissin' her without permission?" Brian concluded, looking back up at Matthew for confirmation.

"Well… yeah, but worse," Matthew sighed, continuing.

"That's why, even when Doc Cassidy does the operation, even after she comes home, it won't be like it was before," Matthew rested his arms on the fence, gazing around at the view surrounding him, worried about how they were all going get through this.

"Coz she'll still be upset?" Brian climbed the fence, following Matthew's gaze.

"Yeah but it'll be all right, Brian. We'll all help each other, as a family. It'll be all right," Matthew leaned back from the fence, deciding they'd given the women enough time alone.

"What do you say we go back, see how she's doing?" He smiled, knowing that would meet with Brian's approval.

"Sure," Brian smiled as he turned to leave.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"I'm just heading over to the store for a few minutes, drop off some laundry and pick up some supplies, you two be all right here?" Dorothy slipped her head around the recovery room door, smiling when she noticed Colleen finishing Michaela's hair.

"We'll be fine." Colleen smiled, securing the plait with a piece of rawhide.

"Anything I can get you?" Dorothy queried, tempted to advise them of the incident she had downstairs earlier, however thinking better of it; they didn't need anything more to worry about right now.

"No. Ma?" Colleen glanced across at Michaela, who merely shook her head.

"All right. I won't be long." Dorothy stepped back into the hallways, leaving the door ajar.

**X.O.X**

Eli strolled back into the Saloon, having familiarized himself with the layout of the main street.

"So, what's this about a room?" He again reached into his jacket pocket for his wallet.

"Nah, don't bother with that, it's on the house… So, have any luck with your story?" Hank gestured to the Clinic across the street, as he crossed the room taking a seat at one of the tables next to the journalist.

"Nah… she brushed me off. Said she weren't interested in talkin' to me." Eli sighed, disappointed but far from ready to give up.

"Well, can't say I'm surprised. Once Michaela Quinn gets on her high horse with all her moral principles, ain't nothin' gonna convince her." Hank chuckled, wishing he could have witnessed the interaction.

"You got that right. Twenty dollars I offered her, and what'd she do, yell at me and slam the door in my face. Women. I tell ya!" Eli searched his pockets, not able to find what his was after.

"You got any decent cigars around here?" the reporter asked, Hank quickly retrieving two from behind the counter, something nagging on his mind. Taking a seat again, the men lit up, Hank leaning back in his chair deep in thought.

"So she was up and around, eh? I thought they were keeping her in bed until the doctor arrived tomorrow. Heck, I didn't even know she's was awake," Hank always felt he was the last to know things, especially when it came to juicy gossip.

"What you talkin' about? She was fine, looked a bit tired, but apart from that absolutely normal. Didn't have a scratch on her, can't see why she'd have needed a doctor." Eli tilted his head, feeling like he was missing something.

"Ah, ermm, I think someone was playin' a little game with you," Hank had seen Michaela when they'd brought her in, she was covered in scratches and bruises. But he also saw an opportunity to profit from someone's deception.

"Ok, mister, I'll play your game," Eli took a five dollar coin from his pocket and waved it under Hank's noise temptingly.

"Tell me everything, and I mean, everything, and it's yours." He placed the coin delicately down on the green felt of the table top, quickly covering it with his hand as Hank reached out to claim it.

"Uh-uh… Show me your cards, first." Eli chuckled, taking another long puff on his cigar.

"Well, I saw Michaela when they brought her in, scratches and bruises all down her face, blood all over her hands. Bruises on her wrists and her long hair all tangled up," Hank paused, about to continue, however deciding to take the coin which was now made available to him. Hank, true to his nature, thought he could improve on that.

"I've been had, haven't I?" Eli grunted, drawing a longer puff from his cigar.

"Well, that sure seems to be happening a lot 'round here lately," Hank couldn't disguise the smirk spreading across his face, trying to shield it with his hand.

"Well, then who was the redhead I saw in the Clinic?" Eli questioned, angry by this stage.

"Ah, that woulda been Dorothy. She's been fussin' 'round the doc since yesterday. If you really want a story, I'd head back over there, Dorothy's just leaving," Hank had noticed Dorothy walk past a moment ago, almost wishing he could join Eli.

"I think I might have to take you up on that," Eli stood quickly, handing Hank the remainder of his cigar.

"Just be sure to ask the right questions though," Hank winked, returned to the bar.

"Such as?" Eli looked puzzled. Aware of the now familiar shrug Hank used to indicate that payment was required, Eli placed another five dollar coin into Hank's outreached palm.

"Like why she gave herself to an injun so easy. Any decent woman woulda sooner ended up dead." Hank raised a single eyebrow, the smirk reappearing when he saw the look of utter disbelief flash across Eli's face. Hank chuckled once again, running a hand through his hair as he saw the little man practically run from the Saloon in enthusiasm.

**X.O.X**

"There, doesn't that feel better?" Colleen smiled, delicately patting the sponge against Michaela's forehead, handing her a towel to dry the rest of her face.

"You're right," Michaela dried the water from her face, aware of the mild stinging the water caused as it ran over the scratches on her face, however the cleansing feeling overpowered any discomfort.

"Here," Colleen took the towel back, and moved the bowl of water closer, reaching for Michaela's right hand gently. Surprised that her ma was letting her be in control, Colleen soaked each hand in turn in the cool water, noticing the dark bruises around Michaela's wrists from the rawhide. Colleen then dried them and applied some salve to the abrasions on her knuckles. Finishing, Colleen put the bowl of water back on the table, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. The pair remained silent for several moments, Colleen having nothing to say, and Michaela seemingly lost in her gaze out of the window.

**X.O.X**

This time choosing to forego announcing himself, Eli was surprised when the Clinic door had been left unlocked. Stepping into the room her quietly pushed the door closed behind him and looked around, following an open door to a corridor with a staircase at one end. Noticing the number on each of the closed doors, Eli was about to open the door marked with a '1', however was distracted by the faints sounds of voices coming from the stairs.

Pausing, he held his breath, smiling when he again heard a voice, quickly, yet with caution pacing to the stairs and climbing then slowly.

**X.O.X**

"Brian's so happy you're back, he was going out of his mind with worry. He even prayed for ya, the last time I seen him pray for something was when you were sick with the Grippe, and that was over a year ago." Colleen had her left hand rested under her chin to support her head, sighing when she got no response.

"Ma?" Colleen frowned, noticing that Michaela's eyes had seemed to glazed over.

"Ma, are you all right?" Colleen reinstated, shaking her arm lightly, until she received a response.

Michaela jolted her head to her right, realizing it was Colleen sitting next to her.

"Are you all right? You went all quiet," Colleen asked, worried by the extreme change in Michaela's usually extraverted personality.

"Oh… it's nothing," Michaela sufficed, glancing down at her hands as if to inspect Colleen's treatment.

"It's all right isn't it?" Colleen asked, worried she may have down the wrong thing.

"Yes," Michaela murmured, her head again beginning to drift from the present moment. Colleen was about to speak again, turning as she heard the door creak behind them.

"Who… who are you? How'd you get up here?" Colleen demanded, defensively rising to her feet. She turned to face the stranger.

"Eli Woods, miss." He smiled, retrieving his notebook and pencil from his pocket as he strode into the room, trying to see past the young girl.

Colleen had never seen this man before, but her gut instincts told her not to trust him. Standing protectively between her ma and the man, Colleen raised her voice, scowling.

"I think you'd better leave. You've no right to be here!" Colleen glancing over her shoulder, worried when Michaela seemed oblivious to the entire development.

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you'd just hear me out, miss. Ya see, I heard about what happened to the lady doctor, and I was wondering if I could talk to her about it? I'm a reporter you, see, with the Denver Daily Chronicle." Eli smiled, opening his notepad eagerly.

"I don't think it's appropriate, I'd like you to leave!" Colleen stepped towards him, her voice wavering, knowing she was powerless against the man.

"I'd really prefer to ask Dr Quinn myself. Ma'am?" Eli was able to dart around the short blond girl, approaching the side of the bed, managing his first proper scrutiny of the infamous doctor.

"Dr Quinn? Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" Eli successfully ignored the protests of the young girl, taking a relaxed seat in the wooden chair, Colleen helpless to stop what was going on.

Eli waited several moments, busying himself with scribbling down a few notes detailing her visible injuries whilst he waited for a response.

"So, Dr Quinn, word arrived to Denver, regarding your abduction just under a week ago. Can you tell me of the events leading up to it?" Eli watched as the woman appeared to comprehend his words, however merely glancing across at him and returning her gaze to the quilt covering her.

"Well, Dr Quinn, you were held captive for six days, what was it like having to live with the savages?" He pressed on, noticing her blink in reaction as he concluded that sentence. Eli tried again.

"Did they hurt you?" He simplified, noticing her eyes widen slightly, however still not obtaining an audible answer.

"Will you get outa here!" Colleen noticed the nonverbal effect this was having on Michaela, she was clearly hearing the words he was saying, just not able to respond.

"Young lady, I have a responsibility to warn my readers about the danger these Indians pose to the community." He turned back to the Doctor, noticing the tears forming in her eyes. Perhaps if he persisted he would get somewhere. He'd come along way for this, he wasn't about to be dissuaded by some young girl.

"Dr Quinn, I was led to believe that you sustained life-threatening injuries as a result of this ordeal, my readers back in Denver would like to know how you managed to survive." Eli raised his voice slightly, frustrated by Michaela's lack of cooperation. Obviously from the extent of her injuries, the bartender had been accurate in his information.

"Leave her alone!" Colleen had tolerated this long enough, she reached for the man's right arm, attempting to pull him from the chair.

"Get away from me, child!" Eli jumped to his feet, furious, pushing Colleen away violently, sending her falling to the floor. The thump she made when she hit was enough to shake Michaela from her thoughts, suddenly looking between her child and the stranger.

"Please, don't hurt her!" Michaela begged, suddenly overwhelmed with fear, gasping through tears as Colleen pulled herself to her feet, pushing past the man to the bedside, in an attempt to comfort her. With all the commotion, nobody heard the feet running up the stairs.

"It's all right, Ma, it's all right," Colleen saw the petrified look in her mother's eyes.

"Don't you think you've done enough!" Colleen screamed, Eli not moving a muscle. It had been worth it, but he'd finally gotten through to the woman.

"Well, Dr Quinn, maybe you'd feel up to talking to me, now?" He lowered his voice, all three reacting as the door flew open once again.

"What the hell is going on up here!" Matthew bellowed, having heard the raised voices from the examination room below.

"Matthew, get him outa here!" Colleen yelled, squeezing Michaela's hand as she continued sobbing.

"You heard the girl," Matthew growled, staring the man up and down.

"Now just a minute, I've every right to be here," Eli protested in confrontation.

"I asked you to leave. Now I'm gonna make you leave." Matthew reached out to grab the man by the arm and shoulder, twisting his arm painfully as he pushed him through the door. Colleen, taking several moments to realize the altercation was over, turned back to see Michaela shaking with fear, her arms held tightly around her, head buried in her chest, crying as she struggled for breath.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Get the hell outa here!" Matthew roared, letting go of the man with a rough push out onto the porch. Eli was about to reply, however noticed Dorothy walking towards them along the porch.

"What's going on, Matthew?" She looked slightly concerned, glancing from the scruffy looking man back to the eldest Cooper child.

"Caught this creep upstairs, with Colleen and Ma!" He stared the man down as Eli brushed himself off and scurried away, back across the street to the Saloon. Dorothy waited until he was well and truly out of sight, before entering the Clinic, closing and locking the door behind them.

"Well from now on, we keep this locked. No telling how long that little runt is going to be lurking around. Ya know he even tried to offer me money before?" Dorothy shook her head appalled.

"Well lucky Brian and I returned when we did is all I can say. Brian? Where's?" Matthew suddenly realized the little boy wasn't in the examination room where he'd directed him to remain.

"Upstairs, I'll bet." Dorothy smiled, as the pair made their way towards the corridor.

"Dorothy, you're gonna have to, I mean, could you possibly stay with Ma for awhile, she's real upset." Matthew and Dorothy ascended the stairs.

"Of course. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left earlier. It just seemed like she and Colleen were doing fine. She seemed settled and all," Dorothy met eyes with Matthew as they heard the sound of Michaela's distraught crying from the top of the stairs.

"Well, she ain't now. I'm gonna take Colleen and Brian over to Grace's for awhile, try and keep them occupied," Matthew replied as they arrived in the doorway.

"Colleen?" Matthew whispered to the young girl sitting on the edge of the bed, her chin quivering as she watched her mother weep uncontrollably. He tipped his head, indicating for her to leave the room.

Dorothy waited until the two children had started down the stairs before stepping into the room. Shaking her head, Dorothy didn't know where to start.

"Michaela?" she whispered, so as not to startle her friend as she crossed the room, perching gingerly on the side of the bed. She waited several moments, seeing the force with which Michaela was gripping her crossed arms with her hands, along with the redness of her tear-stained face.

"Michaela, what… what happened?" Dorothy spoke softly.

Although it took several minutes of coaxing, Michaela eventually stopped crying, enough to speak.

"I, I couldn't do anything. I couldn't stop it. He'd threatened to kill me if I struggled. The children, I couldn't." Michaela looked up, her eyes betraying the guilt and shame she felt.

"It's all right, Michaela. You know those children love you, they need you." Dorothy reached to take her hand, Michaela merely glancing down at the physical contact.

"After what had happened to Sully, I didn't care… I can still see it, Dorothy. I can see him falling from the cliff, not moving. They wouldn't let me go to him… I might have saved him," Dorothy reached to her left sleeve, retrieving a handkerchief and tenderly wiping the tears from Michaela's cheeks. At that moment, Dorothy considered informing her of the wolf's arrival into town yesterday, the men deciding to go back out after Sully, however she thought better of it, the chances are he wouldn't have survived anyway.

"So, he had found you then?" Dorothy continued, trying to piece the events together.

"The third night… we traveled through the mountains all night, hoping to get far enough away. We waited another day before heading back. It was just before dawn the next morning when we started back to town. I couldn't walk… they'd taken my shoes days earlier. We were almost back when we heard the war cries and gunshots… we were forced up another mountain. There was no way out… He had a knife… they were fighting. They were on the edge of the cliff and for a moment it looked as if it was all over… then it happened so slowly… I heard Sully yell… I saw him falling… One Eye'd killed him," Michaela brushed her hands over her face, as if symbolically trying to erase the vision from her mind.

"One Eye? Was he?" Dorothy trailed off, realizing it was none of her business, however unable to fight the natural curiosity welling within her. Michaela simply nodded a response, clenching her fists as if being reminded of the night that followed.

"He'd been watching me for days, I knew it was only a matter of time. Cloud Dancing's son tried to help me, he let me escape, but One Eye shot him and found me again but then, after Sully had been killed, I don't know… the children seemed more important than," Michaela couldn't finish, lowering her head as she sobbed, not being able to shake the tinge of regret. Maybe if she'd struggled, fought back, maybe she could have stopped him.

"Michaela, there _are_ more important things and the children are one of them. Your life was also more important. As young women we're taught that our virtue is more important than life itself, but that's just parents protecting us, scaring us. After what I've been through with Marcus, being friendly with Jake and Loren, it's made me realize just how wrong I've been all those years. I stayed with him because that's what you did. The man you married was the only man you were ever supposed to be with, no matter what. That's not always true, Michaela. And if someone really cares for you, it won't matter," Dorothy watched as Michaela's face slowly crumpled again, as she noticed the bruises around her wrists.

"I just didn't want it to be like that… I didn't know what to expect… I spent so much time worrying about stopping it from happening, that when it finally did, I just… I just felt so," Michaela shook her head, not able to look up at Dorothy.

"Violated?" Dorothy suggested, remembering the extensive bruising she'd seen all over Michaela's body when they had examined her.

"The pain just made it worse and all the blood. I mean I'd considered that it would happen for days, I just, when it was really happening. I couldn't move, I couldn't fight. I felt like I were being betrayed by my own body. Nothing I could do made any difference. If I resisted, he pressed the knife harder against my throat, if I didn't, I felt as if I were allowing it," Michaela felt the shame wash over her once again.

"You didn't betray yourself, Michaela. You did the one thing you had to do when your life was threatened. You survived. Had you not, I don't know what would have happened to the children. Brian hardly ate anything, and when you woke up, I've never seen a child so relieved. Getting you back was more important to him than the horse, his birthday, even fried chicken!" Dorothy smiled, recalling the evening she'd spent with the children at the homestead.

Michaela didn't reply, although hearing Dorothy's words she felt unable to be convinced by them. Her mind was too full of the images of the previous week, feeling totally smothered by the traumatic memories invading her consciousness, the feeling of searing pain from within her, the blood covering her hands and thighs.

"Well, you know I'm your friend, Michaela. Anytime you want to talk, I'll be here to listen. I'm only sorry I weren't here before." Dorothy patted her hand affectionately, getting to her feet.

"Before?" Michaela looked up, not following.

"When the reporter was here," Dorothy frowned, Michaela showed no sign of recollection.

"The man that Matthew found up here, just before?" Dorothy searched her face for any reaction.

"Oh… who was he?" Michaela suddenly seemed to remember.

"Some reporter from Denver. But don't you worry, he won't bother you again." Dorothy smiled, deciding it was definitely time for lunch.

"You feeling all right?" Dorothy gestured, indicating she meant physically.

"Uncomfortable but that's to be expected." Michaela shrugged, looking from her hands to Dorothy.

"Just rest today, and then the doctor'll be here tomorrow. Well, looks like we'll have to wait until Colleen returns and I'll get us some lunch." Dorothy sat down in the chair, making herself comfortable when she heard a scuffling noise outside.

"I'll… I'll just check outside, Michaela. Don't worry," Dorothy stood and walked towards the door, suspicious that that despicable man may have returned. Arriving in the upstairs corridor, Dorothy noticed the ajar door immediately adjacent to the room Michaela was in. Feeling the anger build up within her, she pushed the door open quickly, looking around the room.

"Who's in?" Dorothy looked around, not seeing anything out of place. Turning to leave, she again heard the sound of movement, unable to locate the source. Realizing the noise was coming from the center of the room, Dorothy cautiously lifted the quilt from the edge of the bed, bending down to be able to look under it.

**X.O.X**

Matthew and Colleen finished their pie, each in turn glancing at the other, then around the cafe.

"I don't remember the last time I've eaten a pie without Brian around. He must sure love that horse," Matthew muttered, never having been able to locate the young boy.

"I know… maybe he's gone to the schoolhouse?" Colleen suggested, puzzled by Brian's absence.

"Well, what do you say we split up, try to find him? He's been pretty confused by everything, don't think it's good that he spends too much time on his own." Matthew dropped some coins onto the table, standing up.

"Right… I'll check the schoolhouse, you check the livery?" Colleen assigned, heading off towards the meadow after receiving a nod of agreement from Matthew.

**X.O.X**

"Brian! What on earth are you doing up here? You brother and sister have been looking for you," Dorothy reached to help the little boy out from under the bed, noticing the tears running down his face.

"Brian? What's wrong, sweetheart?" Dorothy rubbed his back, sitting him on the edge of the bed.

"Is Sully really dead?" he whispered, wiping the tears from his face with the backs of his hands. Dorothy suddenly realized he'd be there throughout her conversation with Michaela.

"Brian, how long've you been in here?" Dorothy was tempted to scold him, however given the look on his face, he'd been punished enough.

"Since the man was here." He dropped his head, knowing it was wrong to eavesdrop. "Is it, is it really true?"

Dorothy shook her head, resting an arm around his shoulders. "Oh Brian. Well, yes, I'm afraid he may be but we won't know until the men come back, will we?" Dorothy reminded the boy of Wolf's reappearance yesterday, the men deciding to head out once again with him.

"It's all my fault, ain't it?" Brian whispered, his shoulders hunched.

"Don't be silly, Brian. What makes you think that?" Dorothy's jaw dropped, unable to fathom how Brian could possibly blame himself.

"Ma said she wanted to die, but she couldn't because of us," Brian replied, understanding the words he'd heard, but at a loss as to their emotional context.

"She didn't mean that Brian, she… It's just when scary things happen, sometimes it's easier to wish yourself dead than stand the pain." Dorothy reflected on the many nights she'd spent curled up on the floor, unable to move as a result of one of Marcus' beatings.

"So she doesn't hate us?" He spoke timidly, afraid of the reply.

"Oh, of course not, Brian. Don't you ever think that, ya hear? Your ma loves you and there ain't nothin' gonna change that. You just gotta give her some time to get well, all right? How about you run over to Grace's, ask her if she'd be able to bring some lunch over for the three of us?" Dorothy smiled, encouraging the boy to his feet as she followed him out of the room.

"All right," Brian scuffed his feet across the floor as he sauntered from the room.

**X.O.X**

"Another one?" Hank tilted the bottle of whiskey in front of Eli's face, filling up the shot glass when he nodded affirmatively.

"Think I might need to be seeing that doctor tomorrow, after all," Eli held his right arm protectively against his side.

"Didn't go too well, then? Didn't get your story?" Hank poured himself a drink, turning a chair around to sit next to him at the table.

"No… stupid kid damn near broke my arm… Weren't like I was causing nobody any trouble… just wanted a friendly chat." Eli polished off his fourth glass, frustrated.

"Yeah… how about I fix you up with a little company… Myra? Myra git in here!" Hank hollered, frustrated when she didn't arrive promptly.

"What, Hank?" Myra appeared in the doorway leading through to their rooms.

"Show Mr. Woods here a little companionship, he's had a tough day," Hank motioned for Myra to cross the room to the table.

"I dunno Hank, I'm feelin' kinda tired. Didn't sleep right last night," Myra hesitated, not in the mood for entertaining.

"Enough of your squawkin', get over here!" He yelled, striding across the room and pulling her roughly by the arm.

"There. Just take him back to your room and cheer him up a bit," Hank helped Eli to his feet, Myra reluctantly wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The three of them managed to get Eli into Myra's room, sitting him down on the edge of the bed. Hank turned to leave.

"Hank, I don't feel right about doing this, neither do the other girls… We just ain't in the mood these last few days." Myra felt bad about what had happened to Dr Mike, but it was something deeper than that.

"I don't give a damn what mood you're in. He's a good customer, and I expect him to be well taken care of," Hank trailed off, noticing that Eli had fallen onto his side and was now snoring lightly.

"Sounds like he's comfortable enough to me." Myra delicately placed a pillow under his head, her and Hank stepping out into the corridor.

"So what's all this crap with you? You ain't sick again are you?" Hank was fed up with Myra's whining recently. She was either sick, tired, or found some other excuse to shy away from business these last few days.

"Well, no… I… I just don't much feel like working, what with Dr Mike so sick and all, doesn't seem right us all over here acting like nothin's happened." Myra pulled her shawl around her shoulders, Hank leaning against the wooden wall.

"What you talkin' about, she's fine. Few cuts and scratches was all I saw… Don't really know what all the fuss is about." Hank folded his arms, sick of women being so delicate.

"Hank… you heard what Jake said… It just ain't right something like that happening, not to her. She's always done everything she could to try an' help the Indians." Myra looked up at Hank for a reaction.

"Somethin' like what? Any woman'd give herself away like that, deserves what she gets," Hank shrugged, missing the point entirely.

"Hank… how can you say that? It's not like she had a choice!" Myra was appalled at his casual musings.

"'Course she did. It's like you said, she was always helping the Injuns… probably been wantin' it for years. No wonder she never settled down proper, obviously the white man's not her style," Hank shifted his weight, everything seeming to make sense to him now.

"You make it sound like she slept with him willingly! He raped her, Hank! Surely you can understand that?" Myra paused, studying Hank's eyes.

"Or maybe you can't?" Myra looked at him for several moments, trying to read his face. Hank remained quiet.

"You don't know the difference, do you?" Myra spoke very slowly, her voice quiet and evenly-paced.

"Course I do," Hank shrugged, embarrassed at the serious way she was looking at him.

"No, you don't. You never have," Myra moved down the corridor to another girls' room.

"Suzie, can you come watch out front? Hank and I need to have a chat," Myra called, the young blond woman joining them in the corridor after a moment.

"Sure," she gestured that they were welcome to use her room, heading through the doorway into the Saloon.

"Hank, come with me, I need to talk to you," Myra gazed up at him warmly, resting a hand on his arm as he relented and entered the empty room.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Closing the door, Hank rested comfortably on the bed, not being able to resist smirking at Myra.

"I thought you were feelin' tired," Hank chuckled, surprised when Myra crossed the room, sitting on a chair in front of the dresser.

"Hank, I said I wanted to _talk_ to you, and I meant _talk_." Myra sighed, waiting for Hank to drop the smirk from his face.

"Talk, Myra? I didn't hire you for your conversational ability," Hank scoffed.

"That's it, Hank, you _hired _me. I chose to work for you… to belong to you. The way you're acting about Dr Mike just ain't right." Myra paused, trying to think of how to explain this to someone like Hank.

"I don't see what everyone's makin' such a fuss over… 'bout time she had a man, although an Injun's not exactly what I had in mind," Hank chuckled, being cut off sharply by Myra.

"Hank! Now, I know it's not what you feel, and maybe it's not what I do either, but for some people being with someone like that means a lot. The men I see here day in day out, some of 'em feel right guilty about going behind their wives' backs. And I know, since I've been with Horace, that being with him as a wife won't compare to what you make me do." Myra looked up, reassured that she had maintained Hank's attention, a very difficult thing to do at the best of times.

"Well, Michaela ain't married, so it ain't like she was going behind anyone's back." Hank struggled with the concept, although clearly not objectionable to discussing the matter further.

"No, you're right, Hank, she's not, but I imagine she woulda liked to be one day. I don't expect you to understand this, Hank, but for most women, being with someone like that is something very special. Something you do only with one person; your husband." Myra again observed the effect her words were having on Hank, although he'd wiped the smile from his face, he was still grappling with several elements.

"Well that's just dumb. Something like that, why'd you wanna limit yourself to the same boring person? I mean, ya know I'm fond of ya Myra, but I also enjoy bein' with the other girls," Hank smiled again, looking around Suzie's room.

"That's fine for you, Hank, but most women don't. Most people believe it's something you share with just one person. But that's not what I needed to talk to you about, Hank. I wanted to talk to you about well, having to be with someone when you don't wanna be. Albeit, it's more of an issue for women than for men. Hank, who's the woman you've loved most in your life, honestly?" Myra raised an eyebrow, indicating that she expected Hank to seriously consider her question. He was about to answer quickly, however paused and thought for several moments.

"Clarice," he whispered, being reminded of the time he'd spend with her and their son before she died.

"Hank, please… think really careful for a moment… how'd you feel if she was kidnapped, taken away from you and Zack by a group of dog soldiers… How'd you feel sittin' around here on your own on a dark night, knowin' she was out there, scared, being held with a knife to her throat, and taken against her will," Myra stopped, realizing she'd struck a chord with Hank. He attempted to refute the effect her words had had on him, embarrassed by the emotional reaction welling inside him.

"Yeah but that's Clarice; Zack's ma." Hank muttered, noticeably disturbed.

Myra cut him off, softly. "Dr Mike is Brian's ma. He's already lost one ma, how do you think he's gonna be able to cope with what's happened?" Myra knew, although Hank would never admit it, he'd become closer to the young boy since he'd been working for him. Although angry at him for going back on his deal to sell Brian the horse he'd promised him, Myra understood that for Hank, money was still something he found too difficult to pass up. She understood him as a man in which, despite there being good inside of him, trying to push it's way to the surface, it rarely seemed to have the strength to fight through the bad.

"But she ain't dead Myra," Hank retorted, turning his right hand palm up in front of him in dispute.

"Physically, no, but her heart's been broke, Hank, and believe me, I know what that feels like." Myra expected him to interject, and glanced tentatively up at him when he gave no verbal response. She was somewhat taken aback to see him patiently listening to her. Drawing a breath, Myra decided to continue her story.

"I've never told you this Hank, but before I came to work for you. Back when I was livin' in Denver, just after my folks died. Was at home, lookin' after my little sisters when a man came to the door. He tried to make out like he was a friend of my pa's, although obviously had no idea they were dead… figured out pretty quick he was just looking for an excuse to get inside. Soon as he realized were just me home with the youngin's, he was all over me… weren't nothing I could do… threatened to hurt the girls if I resisted… Hank, I know what being scared feels like. Being so scared you'd almost wish yourself dead than," she trailed off. "Only thing stoppin' me from fightin' was my sisters. I knew they needed me. That after losing our parents they had no-one else," Myra swallowed, eventually daring to look up at Hank.

When her eyes finally rested on his face, she saw a warmth, a softness she'd never seen before. Not knowing whether it had been her mention of Clarice or herself, Myra realized she'd struck a nerve somewhere inside that armor of sarcasm, hatred and greed.

"Hank?" she whispered, after a significant silence. Quietly standing, she sat on the edge of the bed, reaching to take his hand. When he pulled away, she glanced up, worried she'd made him uncomfortable.

"Oh… Hank," Myra saw his eyes glisten with tears, Hank immediately looking away from her, embarrassed.

"Hank, it's all right to show people how you feel sometimes, ya know… Real friends won't think any the less of ya," Myra smiled softly. Still refusing to met her eyes, he stood, the sound of his boots creaking on the floorboards the only sound that could be heard, until he eventually spoke, his voice deep and husky.

"I… I'm sorry Myra," he cleared his throat, heading towards the door.

"Hank, I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I know you and Dr Mike have your differences, know she gets right under your skin sometimes but surely you could understand how bad you'd feel if some reporter started writin' all about me, or Clarice like that, can't you?" Myra waited, dismayed when Hank did not reply, silently opening the door and leaving her alone in the room.

**X.O.X**

Sitting on the floor playing checkers with Colleen, Brian had spent the afternoon with Michaela and Dorothy, feeling much more reassured about everything he'd heard prior to lunch. Having been chastised by Matthew and Colleen for disappearing, they'd long since forgiven him, and, after a talk with Dorothy, had decided he wasn't to be excluded from Michaela; just supervised. Grace had joined them for supper, and they'd eaten picnic-style in the recovery room, along with Dorothy and Matthew, feeling like a normal family again.

"You won again!" Colleen giggled; Brian was too good for her. After beating her three times in a row, Colleen decided it was probably time to call it a night.

"Time to turn in, all right Brian?" she smiled, helping him put away the checkers board.

"Aw, do I have to?" He protested, not feeling tired.

"Yes, you do. Come on, you can sleep in your old room. And Mathew and I'll be right next door downstairs." Colleen put the checkers board on the corner table, watching as Brian kissed everyone goodnight.

"The doctor'll be here in the morning, Ma. Then we can all go home." Brian hugged Michaela, who kissed him softly on the head.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Michaela replied, trying to match his level of enthusiasm, however not quiet managing it.

"Night, Miss Dorothy." Brian hugged the other woman, who'd just draped a blanket over her chair, settling in for another awkward sleep.

"Goodnight, Brian," she returned the hug, smiling as the children left the room, Colleen closing the door behind them.

"Dorothy, you really don't have to sleep there all night, you know." Michaela gestured to the incredibly uncomfortable looking chair.

"That's all right, Michaela. I'll stay with you, just in case." Dorothy honestly didn't mind, after all, Michaela's been in her shoes numerous times with patients, it was the least she could do.

"No really, you take the bed next door, I'll be fine," Michaela proposed.

"You're sure?" Dorothy relished the thought of a soft bed and warm sheets, however wasn't convinced.

"I will be fine," Michaela reassured her, settling down against the pillows, smoothing the quilt out in front of her.

"Well I'll just be next door. You call if you need me, ya hear?" Dorothy ordered, ensuring Michaela had a fresh glass of water by her bed and was comfortable.

"I will," Michaela insisted, smiling as Dorothy eventually left the room. Hearing the sounds of the children preparing for bed downstairs, Michaela smiled softly to herself and let her eyes drop closed to sleep.

**X.O.X**

"Matthew, can you turn the lamp in the hallway down, please?" Colleen tucked Brian into bed, kissing his forehead.

"You sleep well, and no more hiding under beds," she groused jokingly, watching as Brian rearranged his head on the pillow until he was comfortable

"Night, Colleen," he spoke softly, closing his eyes. Colleen crept quietly from the room, closed the door and approached Matthew in the corridor.

"Thanks," she indicated the dimly lit lamps.

"What a day… almost like living back here with Ma, ain't it?" He smiled, this had been his home for the five years between his father leaving and his mother dying.

"Yeah but will be good to get home again. Good when everything gets back to normal." Colleen opened the bedroom door next to Brian's.

"That might take longer than a few weeks, Colleen. You get a good night's rest, I'll nap in the exam room cot, just make sure that reporter fellow doesn't try anything." Matthew waited until Colleen had settled herself into the room before leaving the corridor.

**X.O.X**

Brian had almost drifted to sleep when he heard the unmistakable sound of horses approaching. Swiftly pushing the quilt back and running to the door, he bounded into Matthew who'd also heard the noise.

"Think it's the men back, Matthew?" Brian looked up hopefully, Matthew making his way to the Clinic door

"We'll soon see, won't we," Matthew stepped out onto the porch, squinting to see the identity of the riders on the group of horses.

"It's Wolf! And Robert E., and Mr. Bray… they're back!" Brian squealed, running to meet up with the slowing horses.

"Matthew, you're gonna have to give us a hand here, help us get him inside," Robert E. gestured to Loren on the horse behind him.

"Oh my God!" Matthew gasped, running to Loren's side, as they all pulled the man's unconscious body from the horse.

"Get him inside, don't think there's much we can do though," Jake had dismounted his horse and joined Matthew in carrying the body into the Clinic.

"I'll get the horses back to the livery," Robert E. contributed, watching as all the men crowded around the porch of the Clinic.

"Just keep your voices low; Dr Mike finds out about this, she'll be wantin' to help out, and Miss Dorothy said she's to stay in bed." Matthew instructed, everyone quickly hushing.

**X.O.X**

Hank looked up from the poker game he was involved in, hearing the horses.

"Sounds like the men are back." He got to his feet, moving quickly to the doorway. Almost immediately finding Myra and Suzie at his side, Hank pushed the doors open, running across to the group of men.

"Any luck?" he questioned, addressing Horace as he climbed down from his horse.

"Well we found him. Too early to say though." Horace quickly joined the men inside, Hank lingered out on the porch, curiously.

**X.O.X**

Inside, the Reverend prayed by the man's body, Jake looked for any sign of injury and Matthew worried about keeping everyone quiet. He turned to the small boy who was clinging to his side.

"Brian, I want you to very, very quietly go and get Colleen, we need her help." Matthew bent down to the boy's side whispering.

"What about Ma?" Brian whispered.

"No, we gotta let her rest. Now go get Colleen. Make sure you whisper, Brian." Matthew held his finger to his lips reminding the small boy. Watching as Brian stepped into the corridor out of sight, Matthew returned his attention to the group of men looking at him for direction.

"Colleen can take a look at him. Doc Cassidy'll be here in the morning anyway." Matthew noticed Hank hovering around the doorway.

"What you think you're doing here?" he questioned, still furious at him for his part in the day's incidents with Eli.

"Just wanted to see if they'd found anything… Is there… anything I can do?" Hank's voice had softened, he seemed genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, get back to that Saloon of yours and stay there. You've got a hell of a nerve showing your face after what you set up today." Matthew sneered, waving his hand in the direction of Hank's business.

"I… I'm sorry about that… won't happen again, you've got my word." Hank straightened his tie, uncomfortable with having to express his feelings.

"Just get lost, Hank and take that creature with you before I really get angry." Matthew looked across the street as Eli Woods, very much recovered from his previous drinking, strode keenly towards them.

"Don't you worry, I'll take care of him." Hank reached his hand to his holster, turning to confront the reporter.

"Nothin' to see here, Eli." Hank commanded, blocking the man's view into the Clinic.

"Well, all appearances point to the contrary. Seems the townsmen have returned. Tell me, did they manage to find this Sully character?" Eli reached for his notebook, Hank ripping it from him in anger.

"I told you, you're not welcome here. Now git!" Hank drew his gun, resting it by his side threateningly.

"What's all this about, Hank? I thought we had an understanding. After all, you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours." He jingled some coins in his pocket.

"Well, I changed my mind," Hank replied, Matthew cutting him off.

"You were told to leave, as you've been told many times. You got some problem with ya hearin'?" Matthew placed his hands on his hips, surprised by Hank's dramatic change in attitude, however grateful.

"Hey I'm just trying to do a job here," Eli stepped closer, struggling to see past the men.

"No, I think he definitely has a problem with his hearin', Matthew. Let's see shall we?" Hank raised his gun in the air, finger moving to the trigger.

"Hank, no!" Matthew yelled, but it was too late. The booming firing of the weapon sent Wolf running into the Clinic in fear.

Matthew and Hank stood silently, as the little man ran desperately back towards the Saloon.

"He won't be causin' us no trouble anymore," Hank returned the gun to his holster, satisfied.

"Thanks for that Hank. I just wished you hadn't fired the gun," Matthew invited Hank into the Clinic, closing the door behind them.

"What'd you let him in here for, anyway?" Jake looked up as Hank approached the examination bed.

"He's all right, Jake. Got rid of a little problem," Matthew was about to continue when he heard Colleen enter the room with Brian.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, noticing the man lying on the table.

"Is there anything you can do?" Timothy closed his bible, waiting as the young girl looked the unconscious man over.

"I, I don't think so… He's probably got a head injury, might be internal bleeding like what Brian had. No idea how long he's been unconscious for though," Colleen stepped away from the table, Brian hanging onto her tightly.

"I guess all we can do is make him comfortable," Jake looked up, his jaw dropping.

"Let me see," Everyone turned hearing the familiar voice, Matthew being the first to react, attempted to shield the identity of the patient.

"Dr Mike, no. Go back to bed." Matthew looked around at Colleen and the Reverend for support.

Michaela ignored his words, wrapping the dressing gown further around herself and trying to push past Matthew.

"Matthew, let me see!" She couldn't bear the anxiety, she needed to see if it was true.

"Ma, No! Please," Matthew begged, but he couldn't argue with the determination in her eyes. Lowering his head, he stepped away, allowing her to approach the examination table. Slowly, Michaela reached for the man's arm, searching for a pulse as she looked for any indication of external trauma. Feeling overwhelmed with simultaneous fear and relief, Michaela could only murmur a single word:

"Sully?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Wolf came back into town again yesterday afternoon, and we were all at a loss as to what to do, so we decided might as well go back out there," Timothy explained, Michaela checking Sully's vital signs as well as pupil reaction.

"But then we came to a cliff, we thought about turning back, but Wolf barked and we decided, we'd come that far. So we found him, just lying there. We thought he was dead at first, but he was breathing, so we got him back here as quickly as we could," Timothy concluded, watching Michaela frown as she felt Sully's head for any signs of trauma. Taking a deep breath, she was momentarily overwhelmed by the emotional reaction to the fact that Sully was alive, however forced herself to remain clinical; if she didn't, she knew she would be of no use to him.

"There's swelling to the back of his head, indicative of sub cranial hemorrhaging. If he's been unconscious for the last three days, there's no way of knowing how long he'll survive," she trailed off, checking his pulse and pupils again.

"Well, when the doctor gets here tomorrow, he'll sort it out. Ma, come on. There's nothing you can do," Matthew grasped her arm loosely, just wanting to get her back upstairs.

"No. His pupils are fully dilated and his pulse is weakening. If I don't do anything, he won't live until tomorrow," Michaela stated sharply, turning to locate Colleen.

"Matthew, take everyone outside. Colleen, help me prepare for surgery," she looked up to see the look of disapproval sweep across Matthew's face.

"Ma, don't do this," he pleaded, knowing he couldn't persuade her otherwise. Shaking his head in defeat, Matthew gestured for everyone to leave, taking Brian by the hand and escorting him from the room.

Colleen waited until they were alone, passing Michaela a clean apron.

"Ma, you sure this is a good idea? You know you should be stayin' in bed." Colleen buttoned up the back of the apron for her.

"Colleen, if I don't do anything, he'll die. I have to try," Michaela struggled with the reality that Sully, was actually lying on the table in front of her, clinically still alive.

Colleen nodded, understanding Michaela's decision, if not agreeing with it.

"What do you need?" Colleen sighed, taking the instrument case across to the desk, opening it and draping a clean sheet over a tray to place the necessary instruments on.

"Large, medium and small scalpels, trephine scalpel, forceps and clamps." Michaela awkwardly managed to pull Sully onto his side, tilting his head so as to be able to gently cut his long hair, exposing the swollen portion of his skull.

"Colleen, can you finish here, please," Michaela pulled away, momentary discomfort washing over her. Looking up as the young girl approached her, Michaela busied herself looking for a particular medical book, quickly finding it, skimming over the relevant pages.

"Ready, Dr Mike," Colleen announced several minutes later, stepping away, the bottle of chloroform and a rag in each of her hands.

"Right… well, I," Michaela paced across the room towards Colleen, stopping suddenly with a low gasp, her right hand going to her stomach.

"Ma!" Colleen rushed to her side, pulling her towards the nearby cot.

"We have to do this." Michaela moved uneasily to the side of the examination table, nodding for Colleen to begin the administration of the chloroform. Michaela waited several minutes before reaching for the medium scalpel, sighing as she lingered it over Sully's head, glancing up at Colleen before returning her attention to the field, making the initial incision gently.

**X.O.X**

"If you ask me, he doesn't stand a chance," Jake trailed off taking his seat on the bench next to Loren, as others positioned themselves in various spots on the porch outside the clinic.

"Well nobody asked you, did they?" Loren retorted, Brian making himself comfortable on his lap, still sleepy.

"Sully's gonna be all right, Mr. Slicker. You'll see, Ma'll fix him," The young boy rested his head against Loren's chest, his eyes dropping closed.

"Well, it ain't Sully I'm worried about… Dr Mike ain't well enough to be doing this… I shouldn't have let her," Matthew folded his arms angrily, looking from the Clinic door back to the townspeople.

"Nobody tells Dr Mike what to do. Ain't you learnt that by now, son? She does what she wants." Jake had been feeling awkward ever since he'd walked into the tepee two days ago and found her. He'd remembered the conversation he'd had with Loren and Dorothy several months back, realizing the very thing they'd speculated about, had come true.

"I just can't believe he was still alive," The Reverend shook his head.

"I thought we'd never find him. Thank God Wolf knew where he was going. Where is he?" Robert E. looked around, not knowing where the wolf had gone.

"Must still be inside," Horace raised an eyebrow, nobody having bothered to retrieve the wolf from the Clinic earlier. Matthew looked up, suddenly remembering Hank's change of attitude.

"Anyway Hank, care to explain yourself?" Matthew watched as everyone glanced at Hank, confused.

"Just decided it weren't proper, lettin' the whole world in on our business, is all." Hank adjusted his stance awkwardly.

"What you talking about, Matthew?" Loren frowned, noticing that the small boy had fallen asleep in his arms.

"This worm's been making some nasty friends. Some reporter showed up this morning, poking his nose in, sneaking around," Matthew informed the men, who were unaware of the happenings.

"Yeah… that's right, a Mr. Woods. I got a telegram last week about him." Horace recalled.

"Yeah, except by the time he arrived, weren't no hangings to report anymore. So he and Hank here found somethin' more interestin' to write about." Matthew shot Hank a disgusted look.

"Hey, I told you, he won't be any more trouble anymore. It's taken care of. He'll be leavin' first thing in the mornin'." Hank avoided the scowls he was receiving from the men around him, crossing the porch to make his way back across the street to the Saloon.

**X.O.X**

Michaela finished clamping the field open, wiping a hand over her damp forehead.

"Trephine scalpel," she requested, turning to Colleen, not able to conceal the obvious pain she was in.

"Ma," Colleen handed her the instrument, however more worried about her health at this stage.

"I, I just have to relieve the pressure. See here, how the blood's brighter? That means the bleeding should be coming from this area," Michaela indicated with the trephine scalpel, placing it against the exposed portion of his skull.

"Here, look here… see the slight fracture here?" she pointed to the hairline fissure, blood seeping through it. Colleen frowned, stepping closer to look.

"It's tiny. So that's where he hit his head?" She queried, handing Michaela some gauze to clean the blood away, allowing her to see more clearly where she needed to cut.

"Yes. He's very fortunate there was a small crack, it allowed the blood to escape, albeit slowly. Had it not, he would have died days ago." Michaela let her eyes drop closed briefly, swallowing in an attempt to continue against the sensation of blood trickling slowly down the inside of her legs.

"Ma, surely you could stop just for a moment? Just rest a bit?" Colleen squeezed her arm, hoping she'd relent.

"It won't be much longer," Michaela opened her eyes once again, positioning the trephine scalpel over the small crack, drawing a breath as she awkwardly twisted and pushed down against his skull.

Colleen gasped at the sound of the small instrument cutting into the bone, turning from all the blood.

"Colleen, gauze. Colleen?" Michaela turned, her voice slightly raised, the damage was more severe than she'd expected. Seeing the girl faced away, she reached for the white cloth herself, attempting to soak up the pooling blood and remove the small bone fragment.

"Colleen?" Michaela repeated, having cleaned up the wound slightly, waiting whilst the blood and clear fluid drained from the excised portion of skull.

"I, I'm sorry," the young girl eventually turned around again, bracing herself as she inspected the surgical site.

"We just have to wait until the bleeding stops and then we can suture the wound closed." Michaela stood back from the examination table, wiping her blood stained hands in a nearby cloth.

"Well, how long will that take?" Colleen inquired, noticing how pale her mother had become.

"Shouldn't be too long." She paced slowly to the side of the examination table.

"Ma? You bleedin' again?" Colleen narrowed her eyes, taking in the paleness of Michaela's skin along with the tentativeness of her movements.

She nodded discretely, checking Sully's pulse and pupils.

"How is he?" Colleen administered some more chloroform.

"It's too soon to tell, but he's holding on. We won't know until he wakes up. If he wakes up," Michaela glanced across at Colleen.

**X.O.X**

"It's been hours. Surely if she could save him, we'd know by now?" Loren checked his pocket watch, looking down at the young boy sleeping peacefully in his lap.

"Well, if he was dead, she'd have told us right out. I guess waiting is a good sign?" The Reverend, always the optimist, interjected.

"Maybe," Jake pondered, scuffing his feet along the ground.

"Dead or not, I still don't think she oughta be doin' this. Colleen and Dorothy said she was to stay in bed 'til the doctor arrives tomorrow." Matthew began pacing along the edge of the porch, hands stuffed deep into his trouser pockets.

"Moanin' about it ain't gonna change anything Matthew," Loren responded, careful not to disturb Brian.

"Yeah, I know but if she ain't finished soon, I'm going in there." Matthew resolved, setting his jaw firmly.

"Did anyone contact her family whilst we were gone?" The Reverend asked, immediately realizing Horace had been with them and it would have been impossible.

"Well, no, we couldn't and besides, don't think she'd want them to know, all things considered," Matthew answered, everyone falling silent.

**X.O.X**

Michaela swabbed the blood from around the incision site, satisfied that the blood flow seemed to have reduced.

"There. Hopefully, that's it," Michaela looked across at Colleen, preparing to close.

"How long before he wakes up?" Colleen questioned, reaching for a clean gauze, wiping Michaela's forehead again. She merely shook her head weakly, removing the clamps and taking the needle and suture Colleen handed her.

"Probably not until morning," Michaela shifted uneasily, Colleen quickly grabbing her arm to steady her.

"Ma!" the girl gasped, taking the needle from her, and waiting for her to regain her balance.

"I have to finish, Colleen," Michaela reached again for the needle, managing to slowly suture the incision closed.

Colleen looked up, hearing footsteps coming from the corridor.

"Miss Dorothy?" she called, surprised when the noise turned out to be Wolf, padding across the room towards them.

"How'd you get here?" Colleen muttered in the animal's direction. Wolf, however had a greater concern. Arriving at the edge of the examination table, he sniffed the hand suspended from the table. Determining it to be his master's, the wolf softly licked it, lying down on the floor by his side loyally.

"What now, Ma?" Colleen looked across to notice that Dr Mike had completed suturing the wound.

"There's nothing to do now, except wait. I'll keep monitoring him… overnight, hopefully we'll know… by morning." Michaela passed the instruments back to Colleen, taking a deep breath and blinking several times to reorient herself, before cumbersomely moving across the room to open the Clinic door.

**X.O.X**

Everyone looked up as the door opened, Michaela stepping out awkwardly onto the porch.

"He's sustained… a severe head injury… I had to operate to… remove the pressure on his brain," Michaela leaned shakily against the outside wall, Colleen at the door behind her.

"There's no way of knowing… whether he'll recover or not… we just have to… monitor him for the rest of," Michaela trailed off, her eyes dropping closed momentarily.

"Are you all right Dr Mike?" The Reverend stepped forward, noticing that Michaela was in obvious pain. She was also deathly pale.

Michaela opened her eyes quickly at the voice, pushing herself from the wall in effort to prove it.

"I," Michaela took one step forward, immediately dropping downwards, the Reverend managing to catch her before she hit the ground.

"Dr Mike? Dr Mike?" He held her limp body in his arms, everyone quickly surrounding him. Colleen gasped, as Matthew rushed to her side.

"What's wrong with her?" he demanded, knowing he should have trusted his gut instincts and insisted she stayed in bed.

"She… she's bleedin' again… she's been in heaps of pain, but she wouldn't stop," Colleen moved out the way whilst the Reverend carried Michaela back upstairs, the men trailing behind them, Loren putting Brian back to bed before joining them upstairs.

"Well, is she gonna be all right?" Matthew demanded, once they'd got Michaela back into bed.

"I don't know, I'll have to examine her," Colleen looked petrified, when Dorothy appeared sleepily in the doorway behind them all.

"What's going on?" Dorothy voiced, having heard the commotion of people coming up the stairs.

"The men found Sully, brought him back in, but Dr Mike insisted on operating. Passed out a few minutes ago." Matthew supplied.

"Oh Lord," Dorothy entered the room, placing an arm around the worried girl.

"Come on, you all leave us, Colleen knows what to do." Dorothy gestured for the men to give them some privacy.

"She's right, come on, we'll get Sully into a bed downstairs." Matthew instructed, thinking it was a good excuse to get them to leave.

"Matthew's right, nothin' we can do here," Horace supported, as Loren, Robert E., the Reverend, Jake, Matthew and himself made their way out into the corridor, closing the door.

**X.O.X**

"Miss Dorothy, I tried to talk her out of it, but," Colleen felt fresh tears well up in her eyes, as she helped Dorothy remove the apron and slip Michaela's arms from her dressing gown.

"I know what your ma's like. I'm sure she was only doing what she thought was right," Dorothy replied.

Colleen carefully lifted Michaela's nightdress, revealing her bloodstained legs.

"Yeah… just not right for her," Colleen sighed, replacing the packing in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"It's not working, Miss Dorothy; the bleeding's not stoppin'," Colleen's chin quivered, in a state of distress.

"It'll be all right, Colleen. The doctor'll be here in the mornin'" Dorothy tried to console the young girl, knowing there was nothing more they could do.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**X.O.X**

**Friday, 12th May, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Miss Dorothy? Miss Dorothy?" Brian pulled on her sleeve, trying to wake her. The red-haired woman had fallen asleep in the rocking chair beside Michaela's bed early in the morning hours, Colleen placing a blanket over her before returning downstairs to check on Sully.

"Miss Dorothy?" Brian eventually succeeded in waking her,

"Hmm? Oh, Brian, what are you doing awake?" Dorothy squinted against the sunlight filling her tired eyes, her body stiff and sore from spending the last few hours asleep in the wooden chair.

"It's mornin'. Sully's still sleepin', Colleen stayed with him last night. Can I go get breakfast at Grace's?" Brian quickly arrived at the real purpose of his waking her.

"Oh… I… suppose so," Dorothy trailed off, suddenly getting to her feet to check on Michaela.

"What's wrong, Miss Dorothy?" Brian noticed the urgent look on her face.

"Brian, your ma's not well… can you get Colleen for me?" Dorothy grasped Michaela's right arm firmly, trying to wake her.

The young boy ran quickly from the room, finding his sister downstairs attending to Sully.

"Colleen… Miss Dorothy wants ya. Says there's somethin' wrong with Ma," he informed her, getting a proper look at Sully's unconscious form.

"Ah… right… Brian you stay here with him," Colleen wearily stood, having had no sleep the previous night since Brian had woken her.

Brian followed her request, quickly making himself comfortable in the chair beside the bed, glancing from the bandage around Sully's head to the various cuts and bruises on his face.

"Sully?" Brian whispered, taking his hand warmly.

"Sully, you gotta wake up. Ma said you were dead, but I knew you weren't. You couldn't be. Please, you gotta wake up," Brian lowered his head, getting no response. Letting go of Sully's hand, the small boy sat back in the chair, finding some licorice in his pocket and pulling it out. Looking between the candy and Sully, Brian stuffed the candy back into his jacket, not noticing Sully's right arm move ever so slightly.

"You just gotta get well. Ma got so upset when she thought you'd died, you can't die Sully," Brian cupped his chin in his left hand, gazing around the room slowly.

**X.O.X**

Loren added up the items placed in front of him.

"That'll be a dollar twenty, Mrs Peterson." He sighed, noticing Jake enter the general store.

"Please add it to my account, Mr. Bray." The young woman smiled, taking the groceries after Loren nodded affirmatively

"Mornin' Loren," Jake trailed off, clear that he wasn't there to buy groceries.

"Business slow today, Jake?" Loren pushed a pencil behind his left ear, idly organizing things on the counter.

"Yeah," Jake trailed off, glancing around the store uncomfortably.

"I ain't heard anything, Jake, if that's what you're plucking up the courage to ask me," Loren growled, beginning to count the money in his cash box.

"That weren't what I. All right, yeah it was," Jake looked around auspiciously for any sign of Dorothy.

"She ain't here," Loren read his mind, noticing the store had emptied by this stage.

"Oh," Jake nodded thoughtfully, not feeling comfortable opening up to Loren.

The men distracted themselves for several moments, Loren fixing up the counter, Jake glancing through a week old edition of the Gazette. Loren, although initially frustrated, dropped his guard once they were alone.

"Jake, there ain't nothin' we coulda done differently," Loren looked up, assessing the younger man's reaction.

"Oh… I know, I know. I just didn't think it could really happen is all. I thought Sully'd find her. Hell, I almost wish we'd found both of 'em at the bottom of that cliff, ya know," Jake returned the newspaper to the pile, straightening it up unconsciously.

"Yeah. It's one thing to talk about it, 'nother for it to happen," Loren mused, resting his elbows on the countertop.

"Wish we'd done somethin' sooner. Gone out there with Sully. Maybe we shouldn't have waited so long after he left," Jake couldn't meet Loren's eyes.

"Jake, can't turn back time. Ain't nothin' we can do different now. Just gotta move on," Loren tightened his jaw nodding sternly.

"I can't. I feel like we let her down. After everything she's done to save us, we didn't do nothin' to stop this happenin'. Even after I said I wouldn't let nothin' like this ever happen. I promised Dorothy, remember?" Jake scuffed some dirt across the floorboards idly with his shoe.

"Well, I ain't done any better. I as much told Dorothy woulda been better if they'd killed her," Loren was reminded once again of the poignant discussion they'd had over coffee several months ago, no-one realizing at the time they'd be facing the situation they mulled over so indifferently.

"Maybe woulda been better if they had killed her," Jake ventured, looking in the direction of the Clinic back to Loren, his face downcast.

"Not for Brian, it wouldn't," Loren decided, reaching for some brown paper, folding it into three cone-shaped bags.

"You're right. It's just when we were talkin' about it, we were talkin' about Dorothy, we were talkin' about Catherine. It was, different." Jake watched as Loren crossed the room, slowly beginning to fill the brown paper with various forms of candy.

"Yeah. Everyone thinks Dr Mike can take care of herself," Loren answered, not recalling the last time he'd had such a heartfelt conversation with Jake Slicker.

"Includin' Dr Mike." Jake stopped quickly turning when he heard the approaching horses.

"Oh no," Loren shook his head, dropping the bags of candy onto the counter as he moved quickly to the porch.

"Who?" Jake squinted, following Loren outside.

"My sister," Loren replied without missing a beat, a hand rubbing his left temple as Olive dismounted the wagon, running over to them.

"I just heard. It's not?" Her face was flushed, jaw dropped in disbelief.

"It's true," Loren coughed, Olive looking between the two men in utter disbelief and horror.

"Well, is she all right? Who's looking after the children?" Olive, in her usual style, attempted to start managing things.

"Not particularly. Unconscious the last time I saw her. Dorothy's sitting with her until the doctor arrives from Denver," Jake reluctantly informed the older woman. Despite having honest, good intentions, Olive had a prying way of making everything her business and of insisting she was the only one capable of handling matters.

"Well, what about the children?" Olive continued demandingly, despite the fact she and Michaela had settled their differences, she still felt as though the children should have been hers.

"Stayin' at the Clinic… Colleen's lookin' after Sully… we found him at the bottom of a cliff yesterday, brought him in. Can't say I've seen all that much of Matthew, though… think he's keeping to himself." Loren leant on the counter lightly, looking up as the Reverend entered from the porch.

"Mornin'. Olive," the Reverend joined the small group, taking his hat from his head.

"Reverend, I just heard. Is there anything I can do?" Olive offered, Loren smirking, knowing it was only a matter of time before she tried to get involved.

"Aw, Olive, don't go sticking your oar in. Everyone's been doing fine these past few days," Loren attempted to fob her off, however being met with a cold stare.

"Loren, she's my friend," Olive stated strongly, her voice low, yet direct.

"They're all over at the Clinic, Olive. Dorothy could probably use a rest. She and Colleen have been up all night from what I've heard." The Reverend brushed her arm lightly, Olive quickly leaving without so much as a word.

**X.O.X**

Brian grew worried when Colleen hadn't returned, however knew he shouldn't leave Sully, as he had been instructed to sit with him.

"Sully? Sully please wake up," Brian grabbed his left hand again, watching his chest move slightly as he breathed.

"Sully… we gotta go fishin' again and huntin'… it ain't as fun with Matthew," Brian stopped, feeling Sully's hand move in his. Gripping his hand tighter in response, Brian moved from the chair, sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over Sully's body hopefully.

"Sully… do it again… come on… you can do it," Brian looked from their joined hands to Sully's face, gasping as he noticed Sully's eyelids twitch.

"That's it, wake up Sully… please," Brian held his breath, watching as Sully slowly opened his eyes, looking around to determine where he was.

"Sully… it's me, Brian… I knew you'd wake up," the young boy smiled brightly, waiting as Sully oriented himself to his new surroundings.

"Brian?" Sully spoke hoarsely, his right hand going quickly to his chest in pain.

"Yeah, it's me, Sully… Are you all right?" Brian frowned, noticing the pained expression sweep across Sully's bruised face.

"I will be," Sully whispered, moving his hand to the bandage wrapped around his head.

"Dr Mike, where," Sully tried to sit up, however the pain in both his head and chest not allowing him to. He sank his head back against the pillow, turning to Brian.

"Ma's upstairs, Sully. She fixed your head last night." Brian stood from the bed, aware that he should tell Colleen that Sully was awake.

"She did?" Sully was confused, he knew time had passed, but he couldn't determine how much. He remembered climbing, then nothing.

"Yup, good as new." Brian nodded.

"Brian, what day is it?" Sully was trying to piece together the events flashing through his mind.

"It's Friday. They brought you back last night," Brian responded eagerly.

"Friday? Tuesday. Custer, Cloud Dancing!" Sully's mind was suddenly flooded with images of the army, Cloud Dancing and the dog soldiers.

"The army's gone, Sully. They left after Matthew and the others found Ma. They let the prisoners go, too." Brian reassured him, watching as Sully's face relaxed, taking several quick breaths to calm down. Sully nodded after several moments, his attention being directed to the bandage around his head.

"I'll go get Colleen, she can make sure you're head's all right," Brian smiled, moving towards the door. Sully frowned slightly at Brian's choice of words, however didn't have the strength to argue at that point. He let his eyes drop closed again as the young boy left the room.

**X.O.X**

"Packing's soaked right through. I don't know what else we can do," Colleen delicately pulled the nightdress down over Michaela's legs, covering her with the quilt.

"More ice?" Dorothy suggested, her eyebrows raised with concern.

"I don't think it'll help, most of the blood seems to be coming from an internal laceration, besides Ma said you can't leave ice on too long or it can cause burning." Colleen sighed helplessly.

"Well, what else can we do to stop the bleedin'?" Dorothy continued, being reminded on the similar predicament she'd been in several months ago.

"Dr Mike would use silver nitrate to stop internal bleeding like this, like she did when you were sick but I can't. The doctor'll be here soon, won't he?" Colleen checked Michaela's pulse, trying once again to rouse her.

"Well, Horace said the Friday stage, which is anytime now," Colleen turned, alarmed at the sound of the door opening behind them.

"Just what, Olive? What are you doing here?" Dorothy was immediately defensive, however quickly realized it was her sister-in-law and lowered her voice slightly.

"I just got word yesterday. I thought, I mean, I was wondering if I could help?" Olive chose her words carefully, she and Dorothy had never seen eye to eye. Olive was aware of how upset Loren had been forty-three years ago when Dorothy had turned down his marriage proposal, and was unable to completely forgive her. She had also heard the recent rumors regarding Dorothy's ex-husband and thought the red-haired woman particularly foolish to tolerate such treatment for so many years.

"Well, I… no… I don't think there's anything to be done," Dorothy replied curtly, aware of Olive's negative opinion of her.

"Miss Dorothy, I really should check on Sully, and you've hardly had any sleep… maybe Miss Olive could stay with Ma for awhile, give you a chance to rest?" Colleen suggested, noticing how worn out Dorothy appeared.

"I'm quite all right," she again replied sharply, reclaiming her place next to Michaela's bedside.

"Well, what if I sat with Sully? Colleen dear, you look exhausted." Olive rubbed the young girl's shoulder.

"I suppose a few hours rest would be nice but wake me if you need to, all right?" Colleen checked on Michaela once again, before leaving the room, the two women glancing at each other awkwardly.

"Haven't seen you for awhile, Olive," Dorothy broke the ice, a tinge of criticism in her voice.

"Haven't had much call to venture into town. Been busy," Olive looked from Michaela back up to Dorothy.

"So why you here now, then?" Dorothy raised an eyebrow.

"I heard about what happened. Dr Mike and I are friends. Thought the children might need someone to look out for 'em also." Olive carefully justified herself.

"Save your breath, you just want those children for yourself. I know you feel bitter about it, Michaela told me." Dorothy clasped her hands in front of her, her voice crisp.

"That's not true. I'm too old to be raisin' children anyway. I think we should put our differences aside, for everyone's good." Olive saw the anger in Dorothy's eyes, making an effort to calm the waters.

"Fine by me. I guess you won't need to be stayin' that long anyway, doctor'll be here in a few hours." Dorothy saw no reason for Olive to interfere.

"I'll stay as long as I feel is necessary, you don't tell me what to do," Olive glared, not about to let Dorothy push her around.

"I'm the closest friend Michaela has. I'll decide what's in her best interests." Dorothy knew that the argument they were having had very little to do with Michaela, she was fully aware of what Olive thought of her.

"You will not. She was my friend first, anyway." Olive rested her hands confrontationally on her hips, looking Dorothy up and down.

"You two aren't exactly friends, you tried to take the children away, what kind of friend does that?" Dorothy raised her voice slightly, stepping closer to Olive.

"Oh, that was before I knew her properly, besides, you wouldn't have met her at all if that pig of a man you married hadn't used you as a punching bag one too many times. 'Course it's your own fault, thinking Loren weren't ever gonna be anything special, and you deserved all the excitem/ent. Hope you've learned your lesson." Olive snapped back just as quickly, her voice increasing in pitch slightly to compete with Dorothy's.

"That ain't none of your business. Get out of here!" Dorothy fumed, gesturing to the door.

"Fine. Best go check on Sully anyway. Downstairs is he?" Olive reached for the doorknob.

Dorothy returned to her seat as she heard the woman's footsteps on the corridor.

**X.O.X**

"Oh, Brian, careful!" Colleen almost ran into the little boy as she moved along the corridor towards the corner room Sully was occupying.

"Sorry. He's awake Colleen, come see!" Brian tugged on her arm lightly, dragging her into the room. Colleen smiled as she approached the bed, brushing Sully's arm lightly.

"Sully, it's so good to see you awake. We didn't know if you were gonna pull through or not," Colleen beamed, checking his pulse and pupils as she'd seen Michaela do the previous night.

"Well, you're awake so that's a good sign. We'll know more when Dr Cassidy checks on you. He should be here any time now." Colleen moved his head carefully to check for any excessive bleeding.

"Dr Cassidy? I don't understand, Brian said Dr Mike's upstairs," Sully's bright blue eyes darted between each of the children suspiciously.

"She is," Brian stopped quickly, receiving a glare from Colleen.

"She's ah, she's asleep." Colleen nodded quickly, hoping Sully wouldn't press the matter. Sully, however, had gotten to know these children quite well over the last year or so, and knew when they were hiding something.

He was about to reply when he remembered something: a cliff. Sully remembered running. He could hear gunshots and dog soldiers' war cries around him. Michaela was next to him, they were being chased. Suddenly he felt a weight pressing down on him, he was in a struggle, he was fighting. He felt the rocks underneath him as he was rolling towards the cliff edge. Then he was falling, the wind rushing around his body. Sully realized he'd fallen from the cliff. That was his last recollection, which he calculated to be Tuesday morning. Brian had said that the men had brought Michaela back into town, but he'd not been rescued until the night before. Had they been separated?

"Colleen, when did Dr Mike get back to town?" He felt his blood run cold, his voice low.

"Wednesday mornin'," she trailed off, lowering her head, not wanting to be the one to tell him.

"Why's Dr Cassidy coming? What's happened?" Sully didn't blink, waiting for Colleen to respond.

"Sully, no. Don't, please." Colleen drew a breath, feeling tears collecting in her eyes.

"Michaela," Sully pushed himself up from the bed, Colleen covering her mouth with her hand, as he got to his feet, fighting the pain in his chest and head.

"Sully, stay in bed, I don't want you to get sick, too," Brian pleaded, running and clinging against Colleen, as Sully brushed past her.

Leaning on the doorframe, he stepped into the corridor, Olive resting a hand on his shoulder.

"The boy's right, Sully. You need your rest." She tried to coax him back into the recovery room, Sully refusing.

"Michaela. I have to see her," he stood his ground, seeing the worried look in Olive's eyes.

"There's nothing you can do, Sully. She needs you to be strong. You need to rest." Olive saw the determination in his eyes, however her resolve was just as stubborn.

"Colleen, go get Matthew, or Loren. I'm going to need some help keeping Sully downstairs. Hurry," she ordered, the two children running quickly from the room.

"Olive, I need to know," Sully pressed more of his weight against the doorframe, feeling his body weaken underneath him.

"She's unconscious, Sully," Olive spoke plainly, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"What happened?" his voice was low, yet forceful. His eyes cold and sharp with mortal worry. Not receiving a response, Sully pushed against Olive's restraining arms, painfully taking several steps towards the stairs. Olive wasted no time in catching him, grasping his upper arms and blocking his path.

"She… she's been… hurt," Olive looked away as she spoke lowly, the several moments feeling like hours as she waited for his reaction.

Sully only heard one word. His mind repeated it over and over again, trying to tell himself it wasn't so. No. Not her. It couldn't be true. Feeling the air escaping his lungs, Sully let his eyes close, reality pushing its way into his consciousness. He knew what that word meant. It was the same word he'd used days before after rescuing Michaela from One Eye. He'd prepared himself for the worst that evening in the cave, from her tattered clothes and face he'd expected her to respond affirmatively, however when she'd assured him otherwise, he'd not given it another thought.

"Hurt?" he heard the word escape his lips, unaware he'd consciously said it. Meeting Olive's eyes, they confirmed his utterance, and Sully suddenly realized he was momentarily frozen, unable to move, or even draw a breath.

"Sully… please… go back to bed. Please," Olive softened her voice, seeing his eyes glaze over.

"Michaela… Michaela!" Sully suddenly felt air rush back into him, strength going to his legs and arms, giving him the energy he needed to make it to the bottom of the stairs.

"Sully, no!" Matthew bellowed from the doorway that led into the examination room behind him. Running quickly to his side, Robert E. following behind him, they each grabbed one of Sully's arms, pulling him back along the corridor towards the recovery room.

"No, I have to go to her! Let me go!" He struggled, quickly weakening from the immense physical effort and mental agony.

"There's nothing you can do. Rest, or you'll be no good to anyone!" Olive responded, watching as Robert E. and Matthew managed to get the injured man back into bed.

"Michaela." He felt light-headed, his eyes dropping closed as he felt the soft bed underneath him.

Matthew, Robert E. and Olive exchanged glances as Sully slipped back to sleep.

"It's for the best," Olive whispered, Robert E. and Matthew settling in to keep guard over him.

"You told him?" Matthew questioned, his voice rich with disapproval.

"What choice did I have?" Olive set her jaw firmly, folding her arms.

"Do you know what this'll do to him?" Matthew continued, shaking his head.

"Calm down, Matthew. It was only a matter of time," Robert E. rested his arm on the young man's shoulders, aware of the responsibility Matthew felt over his family.

They all moved towards the door as they heard the sounds of movement in the corridor. Olive was the first to identify the sound, reacting with surprise.

"Get that thing outa here," she protested as Wolf, hearing his master's cries, padded into the room, approaching the bed.

"No, leave him be. They've been separated long enough," Robert E. responded, watching as the wolf settled himself alongside the bed, sniffing in Sully's direction with a concerned whimper.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"What's the time, Loren?" The Reverend asked, as he and Jake paced around the store, at a loss for what else to do.

"Just after nine. Shouldn't be long now," Loren checked his pocket watch, slipping it back into his vest as he glanced once again out onto the main street.

"Do you think it'd be appropriate for me… I mean, maybe I could go over, sit with them?" Timothy grasped his bible firmly, looking from Loren to Jake nervously.

"I dunno, Reverend… Maybe it's something we'd best leave to the women," Loren cringed awkwardly, his forehead wrinkling in discomfort.

"You got that right, Loren. I knew something weren't right the moment I walked into the tepee and saw her," Jake looked downcast. All three men quickly looked up as they heard someone enter the store.

"Ain't that right, Horace?" Jake glanced across at him for support.

"What's that?" the telegraph operator frowned, beginning to take in the somber mood surrounding him.

"When we found Dr Mike in the tepee, she say anything to you before I arrived?" Jake questioned, Horace immediately looking uncomfortable.

"Well no, come to think of it, she didn't say a word. Was curled up on a pile of blankets when I found her, hair all messed up and," Horace drew a discomfited breath, Loren and Jake glanced around the room ensuring they were alone, before leaning towards him encouragingly.

"What?" Jake narrows his eyes, curiously.

"Ah… I don't think we should be talkin' about this… it ain't right," Horace muttered, clearing his throat.

"Aww, come on, Horace," Loren's eyes glimmered, who said men didn't enjoy a bit of gossip.

"Well, when I was untying her wrists, I noticed, I mean, she sure weren't wearing much, was she, Jake? And her blouse was all torn like," Horace looked desperately at Jake, not wanting to continue.

"Not to mention all the blood," Jake sighed, Horace cutting him off, feeling more at ease with the disclosure.

"She jumped when I touched her arm, too and sh-she couldn't walk. You had to carry her," Horace gestured towards Jake as he noticed the Reverend shaking his head in despondency.

"And then when I saw her bloomers laying on the ground… don't take a genius," Jake brought his hand to his chin, moving it along his jaw line trying to distract himself from the images invading his mind.

There was a long pause, the men studying the floor, adjusting their stances, each looking at the other, wondering who would be the first to speak.

"Wonder what she's gonna do. Gonna be hard to stay around here, once word gets out," Loren considered, his voice tinged with regret.

"Well, I guess that really depends on us, don't it? We gotta make sure everyone treats her right," Horace decided, Jake and Loren exchanging doubtful glances.

"She might not wanna stay. Might prefer to take those children back to Boston with her. Start over," Jake shrugged, both the Reverend and Loren worried by this possibility.

"Horace's right. We gotta do all we can to support her, and the children. Maybe we should have a town meetin'… quietly… make sure anyone's got a problem with it, gets set straight?" Loren looked to the Reverend for support. He nodded, seeming to be a million miles away.

"Oh yes. You're absolutely right, Loren." Timothy responded after several moments of silence.

The men seemed relaxed as they began organizing to get a select group of the town together, grateful to get something else to think about.

**X.O.X**

"I'll stay with him, Matthew. Hopefully he'll sleep for a bit now," Robert E. reassured the young man as he took a seat besides the bed.

"Right, come on, Brian, we've got stuff to do," Matthew reached for the young boy's arm, eager to leave.

"Matthew, can't I stay?" Brian pulled from his grasp, looking up at him pleadingly.

"No, come on. We gotta go out to the homestead, check on the animals." Matthew insisted, nodding towards Robert E. and Olive as he encouraged Brian from the room.

**X.O.X**

The brothers headed from the Clinic, along the porch towards the general store.

"Why'd you do that, I wanted to stay," Brian fussed, frowning in Matthew's direction.

"Well, tough. I told you, we got chores. 'Sides Robert E. can sit with him." Matthew brushed his hair back, placing his hat on firmly.

"Ma sure fixed him good, didn't she?" Brian smiled, thrilled at Sully's recovery.

Matthew didn't respond, Brian assuming he hadn't heard him.

"Didn't she, Matthew?" He repeated, slightly louder, as they stepped from the edge of the porch into the dirt road.

"Yeah, wouldn't 'ave bothered myself," Matthew muttered, exhaling noisily.

"Why'd you say that?" Brian looked up shocked and confused by Matthew's statement.

"Well, what happened to her, it's all his fault. Shoulda just left him out there," Matthew spoke darkly, unable to control his feelings of anger.

"It's Sully's fault?" Brian was thoroughly confused by this stage, however picking up on the emotion in his brother's voice.

"Yeah. He had to play the hero, didn't he. Wouldn't let none of us go out with him to help find her. We woulda stopped this happening. But no, we all trusted him. So did Dr Mike. He let us all down," Matthew trailed off noticing the men standing in the middle of the general store, deep in conversation. Pulling Brian towards him, Matthew motioned for his younger brother to be quiet. Slowly, they approached the doorway, careful not to be heard.

"Well, just saying ain't everyone gonna understand it that way. Some folks'll think she shoulda let herself get killed, rather. Look at Hank," Loren was trying to play devil's advocate, Horace trying to talk them out of a town meeting.

"That's just Hank, though. You know what he's like," the Reverend countered, not convinced they should be discussing such matters.

"No, Loren's got a point. You know how people talk. We'd best just get the story straight. Will only do more harm later if rumors start up. Then it'll be impossible to get to the truth." Jake voiced his support, Horace shaking his head nervously.

"I just don't think it's our place to talk, not behind Dr Mike's back and all." Horace wasn't comfortable with the idea of a meeting, fidgeting with his hat in his hands.

"Look, Horace, it's not talking behind her back. It's just sorting out the facts so nobody gets the wrong idea. You know the way stories start 'round here, best put a stop to them now." Jake decided, the Reverend and Loren nodding their agreement.

"Stop it all of you, this ain't none of your business!" Matthew entered the room boldly, Brian tucked behind him, surprised once again at the fury in his voice.

"Matthew? Matthew, we weren't, I mean, we," the Reverend attempted to defend the group, Matthew however not interested.

"Save it. I don't wanna hear another word. We just came for some supplies, then we'll be off, and you can talk all you want." Matthew quickly grabbed the feed and grains they needed, placing them on the counter top.

"Matthew, honestly, we were just concerned. Just wanna make sure people don't start spreading rumors, is all." Loren looked apologetically at the young man.

"Well, to see you all huddled like this talkin', that's exactly how rumors will start. Brian and I are headin' out to the homestead, check on things. Make sure Colleen knows where we are, right?" Matthew paid Loren for the goods, turning towards the door hurriedly.

"Sure, Matthew. Is there, anything we can do?" Loren glanced from the three men surrounding him to the younger man.

Matthew turned about to reply when they heard horses approaching. Everyone rushing out onto the porch, Brian quickly identified the source of the noise.

"It's the stage! Come on Matthew, the doctor's here!" Brian ran on ahead, the men reacting and running after him.

"Oh, thank God," Loren responded, the Reverend looking upwards in a silent prayer of gratitude.

**X.O.X**

"There he is!" Horace pointed, seeing the doctor emerge from the stagecoach, the group of men soon surrounding him.

"Oh, Dr Cassidy, thank-you for arriving so promptly." Horace greeted him, the short, gray hair doctor looking somewhat uncomfortable at the display of open affection.

"Well, as I replied in the telegram, I took the first train from Denver." Dr Cassidy nodded in gratitude as he was handed his bags from the driver. He looked around at the sea of expectant faces crowding around him.

"My patient?" He queried, tired from his long journey and eager to get down to business.

"Oh, yes. Right this way, Doctor," Jake quickly began leading him toward the Clinic, the party trailing nervously behind him.

"I must say, I certainly didn't expect to be the center of attention," the Doctor muttered curtly, as they arrived on the porch.

"Well, given everything that's happened, everyone's been very… concerned," Jake opened the door, leading Dr Cassidy upstairs.

**X.O.X**

Dorothy turned as she heard the door behind her, relieved with she recognized Dr Cassidy.

"Oh, Dr Cassidy, thank-you. We've been so worried," Dorothy approached him, ushering him into the recovery room.

"Well, you needn't worry yourself anymore, Madam. I'll take care of everything," Dr Cassidy quickly set his medical bag down on the edge of the bed, reaching to check Michaela's pulse.

"What seems to be the trouble here?" He sighed, frowning when he realized how faint it was.

"Ah… She… ah," Jake cleared his throat, Dr Cassidy glaring up at him impatiently.

"Well, several days ago, I don't know if they told you in the telegram… ah… Dr Mike was kidnapped by renegade Cheyenne dog soldiers… We found her Wednesday morning but ah… she was… ah… hurt," Jake tried to give his final word just enough edge, Dr Cassidy however not picking up on it.

"Hurt?" the Doctor shook his head in non-comprehension, checking Michaela's head, and arms for any sign of injury.

"No… ah… _hurt," _Jake tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. Dorothy, however, was frustrated enough by this point and was about to intercede should the Doctor have not comprehended the message.

"Oh… I see," he muttered in an emotionless tone. "I'm afraid I still don't see why you needed my assistance," Dr Cassidy opened his medical bag, idly retrieving his stethoscope and other instruments, checking her pupil reaction and heartbeat.

"Doctor, she's been bleeding. Since Wednesday. It stopped for a day or so, but started again last night. We couldn't stop it this time," Dorothy finally spoke up, not in the mood for politeness, just wanting to ensure Michaela's life wasn't jeopardized.

"We?" Dr Cassidy replied cynically, immediately reaching for the quilt laying over her and brusquely throwing it to the end of the bed.

"I… ah, I'll be downstairs," Jake turned an slightly red color, darting rapidly for the stairs.

"Her daughter Colleen, and myself. Michaela was awake yesterday morning for most of the day though," Dorothy crossed her arms, resting her left thumb and forefinger on her chin and mouth, as Dr Cassidy coarsely began a cursory examination.

"Well, there's extensive damage, looks like a tear running into a branch of the internal iliac artery is responsible for the bleeding… nothing I can't fix though." Dr Cassidy nodded, standing from the bed and wiping his hands.

"I'll tell Colleen to prepare for surgery, then," Dorothy replied, heading for the door.

"Oh, yes, and find someone to help me get her downstairs," Dr Cassidy continued packing his instruments away, shaking his head in disbelief once again.

**X.O.X**

Several hours later, Dr Cassidy emerged from the Clinic, everyone rising to their feet worriedly.

"All's fine, I managed to stop the bleeding, but she's lost a hell of a lot of blood. If she makes it through the next few hours, I estimate she'll make a full recovery… physically, at least." Dr Cassidy informed them briefly, before returning inside.

"Colleen?" Brian whispered, tears in his eyes as he crossed the porch to clutch her skirt.

"Ssh… it'll be all right, you'll see. What do ya say we all go sit with her?" Colleen rubbed his back, taking his hand and following Dr Cassidy back inside the Clinic.

"What do you children think you're doing in here, this is no place," Dr Cassidy turned with a glare of disapproval as he saw the children appear in the room behind him.

"They're not doing anyone no harm, Doctor." Dorothy defended, as Jake entered the room behind Colleen, helping Dr Cassidy to get Michaela back upstairs.

"So long as they stay out of my way," Dr Cassidy groused, dropping some instruments into a bowl of hot water.

Dorothy waited until only she and the Doctor remained in the room before speaking.

"I wanted to thank you for your help," she whispered, feeling awkward talking to the man. Dr Cassidy looked up from his work, about to reply, however pausing for a moment.

"Just doing my job. Although, maybe this'll knock some sense into that foolish head of hers, get her to give up this doctoring lark. Stay at home, like a woman should." He raised an eyebrow in Dorothy's direction, taking the instruments from the bowl and drying them.

"Oh, I hope not, Doctor," Dorothy replied slowly, a firm expression of determination on her face.

"Well, we'll know in a few hours, won't we," he muttered, having treated several women following such an assault.

"What do you mean?" Dorothy frowned, reaching to bundle several sheets from the examination table.

"I've seen this in a few female patients back in Denver, you know. They never get over it. One even had to be sent to an asylum." He drew a breath, seeing the wave of shock sweep across Dorothy's face.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. Michaela," Dorothy stopped, for she really had no way of knowing whether Dr Cassidy spoke the truth or not. Dr Cassidy saw his opportunity and launched into a sanctimonious spiel.

"Well, as I've said, I've had some experience with women who've been subjected to this and it's not pretty. Aside from her medical injuries, which will require a week's bed rest or so, there's no telling what effect it will have on her emotionally and of course there are always complications," he cleared his throat, Dorothy's eyes widening in horror, as he continued, "in which case she'd be better off moving away. Can't see anyone surviving such a scandal in a small town like this, unless someone agrees to marry her to save her reputation. But then, had she taken my advice in the first place this never would have happened," he shook his head, drawing a breath, oblivious to Dorothy's appalled glare, "I'll keep an eye on her for a few days, remove the sutures, make sure the bleeding doesn't return, but then you are on your own." Dr Cassidy washed his hands, dried them quickly and reached for his bag.

"If you don't mind I've a patient to check on." He pushed past Dorothy roughly, heading towards the stairs. She stood for several moments, mouth open in stunned revulsion following his rant.

**X.O.X**

"Ma?" Brian whispered, going to her side as Jake placed her down on the bed, Colleen fixing the pillows behind her head and smoothing out the quilt over her.

"I'll… er… be outside," Jake, once again feeling very uncomfortable, made himself scarce.

"Hold her hand, Brian. Then she'll know we're here," Colleen smiled at the little boy, seeing the deep concern on his face.

"Ma, it's me. Dr Cassidy says you're gonna be fine," Brian consoled, looking back at Colleen for approval.

"That's it… here… we'll just sit with her for awhile, Brian." Colleen took her seat on the chair beside the bed, reaching for the little boy to sit in her lap, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, kissing the top of his head lovingly.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**X.O.X**

**Saturday, 13th May, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela felt the blanket of darkness lifting slowly from her, as if she were rising upwards, through a dark misty fog, suddenly being aware of noises around her. Opening her eyes slowly, she struggled to see through the blurriness. She could hear voices, they were familiar, yet seemed to be far away, echoing in her ears. Michaela felt the pain in her lower body once again, drawing a sharp breath as she sensed the touch of flesh against her right hand. Pulling her hand away instinctively, Michaela felt a wave of nausea fall over her, her mind and body reliving the experiences of the last few days without her being aware of it. Fighting for breath, Michaela felt a tightness in her chest, a tingling down her arms as panic washed over her, her blood running cold. Caught in two worlds, Michaela heard a voice nearby, seeming to increase in volume. Trying to push against the sights, sounds and sensations her memory was inflicting upon her, she heard the voice continue, feeling a hand touch her once again. Desperately struggling to separate memory from reality, Michaela tried to move, this time a hand was placed on her shoulder, preventing her. Her mind in turmoil, trying to unlock herself from the fear consuming her, Michaela suddenly comprehended the voice next to her.

"Ma? Ma, wake up," Brian whispered, squeezing her hand tightly.

"Ma, it's Colleen, it's all right, you're in the Clinic. Ma?" Colleen removed her hand quickly from Michaela's right shoulder, seeing the terror cross her face.

Michaela turned her head, allowing her eyes to settle on the two familiar faces, she felt the anxiety slip away slowly. After several moments, her eyes adjusted, and she could be certain the voices were those of her children.

"Ma, it's just us," Colleen reassured, pulling Brian's hand from Michaela's arm, mindful of the negative effect it had had on her. The little boy turned in protest to his sister's actions, being quickly hushed.

"Colleen?" Michaela whispered, her voice hoarse and weak.

"Yeah, it's me, Ma. Everything's all right. The surgery's over, you're fine." Colleen consoled, tempted to instruct Brian to go downstairs and find Dr Cassidy, however deciding to wait.

"Surgery?" Michaela queried, taking several moments trying to remember what had happened.

Colleen paused before answering, not sure if Michaela was quite up to processing any new information.

"Yeah," the young girl replied, opting not to elaborate any further; the details could wait.

Michaela looked between each of the children as she gradually allowed her breathing to return to normal. Brian turned nervously to Colleen, unsure of what they should do.

"Brian, how about you go downstairs and get Miss Dorothy? Tell her Ma's awake." Colleen whispered, seeming to read his mind. The boy slipped from the edge of the bed, making his way towards the door, looking back at his mother worriedly as he left the room.

Colleen settled her chin in her hands, tilting her head as she watched Michaela lay quietly, the only movement, the blinking of her eyes every few seconds.

Michaela, now feeling capable of sound thought, attempted to piece together the recollections invading her short-term memory. Much of it was blurred, however, she remembered moving, walking. Michaela also remembered holding something in her right hand. Narrowing her eyes slightly, Michaela tried to recall what it was. A scalpel. Yes. However, she was unable to put the vision into context.

Colleen noticed the troubled expression cross Dr Mike's face. Letting her arm fall back into her lap, the young girl leant forward slightly.

"Ma? Ma, what is it?" Colleen whispered, not sure if she would receive a response.

"What day is it?" Michaela questioned, having lost all sense of time.

"It's Saturday, Ma. Dr Cassidy operated yesterday, and you've slept all night," Colleen replied, still not sure as to how much of the given information Michaela was actually comprehending.

Colleen watched as Michaela tried to add this information to the confused images swirling around in her head. Days didn't have any beginning nor end at this point, nor did a name she should have reacted to.

"Ma?" Colleen repeated, seeing Michaela's eyes glaze over again.

At that moment Colleen turned, as she had heard footsteps on the stairs. Michaela, seeming not to have noticed.

"Well, how's everyone in here?" Dr Cassidy announced in his most pompous and condescending tone, as he strode into the room, Colleen raising her eyebrows in astonishment.

Dorothy followed closely behind the Doctor, gesturing with her left arm for Colleen to leave the room.

The young girl obeyed quickly, looking sharply back at Dorothy as Michaela remained oblivious to the happenings around her.

"I'll stay. It'll be all right." Dorothy reassured, as Colleen flashed another concerned glance in her direction. "Wait downstairs with your brother." Dorothy placed her arm affectionately on the girl's shoulder as she left the room.

Dorothy turned back facing into the room, as Dr Cassidy set his medical bag down authoritatively on the side of the bed.

Michaela focused on the medical bag only a foot away from her, seeming to be fascinated by it, as she raised her head slowly, the blank expression on her face remaining, however her eyes slowly widening in childlike curiosity.

"Now then, you've certainly had enough time to sleep that surgery off, let's examine you." Dr Cassidy sat down on the edge of the bed, retrieving his stethoscope and reaching forwards to rest the bell on Michaela's chest.

Dorothy frowned at his intrusive actions, stepping closer towards the bed in protest.

"Surely you could be more sensitive, Doctor," The older woman objected, receiving a furious glare from the male physician.

"Are you questioning my medical judgment, woman! I have dealt with these types of cases before, you know!" He snapped quickly, Michaela clenching her fists and drawing her arms towards her chest in self-defense.

"Don't be childish, now, you know I'm not going to hurt you," Dr Cassidy insisted, reaching for Michaela's wrists, as he placed a hand against her cheek to check her pupil reactions.

Dorothy, her breath held, watched the scene play out in front of her, however could not restrain herself any longer, stepping to the Doctor's side.

"Really, I don't think," Dorothy objected, Dr Cassidy turning instantly in her direction.

"Don't tell me what to do!" He growled, his voice low and gravelly.

Dorothy sensed the built up air rush from her body as she picked up the edge of her skirt and raced from the room, halfway down the stairs before she was aware of the hot tears stinging her cheeks like needle pricks.

Dorothy felt a hand on her shoulder, looking up, expecting it to be Colleen.

"What's wrong?" Olive had heard the commotion from the recovery room downstairs, joining her sister-in-law on the stairs.

"I… he… that man," Dorothy brushed the tears from her face, glancing up towards the top of the stairs.

"Didn't come across as the tactful type?" Olive rubbed Dorothy's upper arm consolingly.

"You can say that again." Dorothy muttered, sighing as she collected herself.

"Want me to sort him out?" Olive raised an eyebrow, fully capable of dealing with bullies.

"Oh, I don't know… can you just make sure Michaela's all right. He weren't being overly sympathetic, I mean, I tried to say something, but he wouldn't listen to me." Dorothy was frustrated that she hadn't been able to defend her friend.

"I'll deal with him, don't you worry. 'Sides you've been cooped up here for days, what do you say I sit with Dr Mike for awhile, give you a chance to get some rest?" Olive suggested, half expecting Dorothy to refuse out of mere pride. The red-haired woman must have been truly tired, she deduced when Dorothy posed no resistance.

"Thanks. Olive," she paused about to say something, however sensed the lingering tension in the air, and determined that the brunette had been as cordial as she intended.

**X.O.X**

"Mi, Michaela," Sully turned his head, his eyes flashing open quickly, looking around the room with confusion.

"Sully… it's Robert E… just stay still," Robert E. quickly moved from his chair across the room, to Sully's side, a hand steadying his movements.

"I… where…my head," Sully squinted, suddenly being aware of the ache coming from the back of his head.

"It's all right… Dr Mike had to operate on you… remember?" Robert E. frowned slightly, thinking that Sully would have already been told this.

"Dr Mike? Michaela," Sully pushed against Robert E's arm once again, a vague traumatic memory coming back to him.

"She's upstairs, Sully. Please, just calm down," the Blacksmith begged, looking between the injured man and the doorway for any sign of support, should he need it.

"Robert E.," Sully spoke, slowly identifying more certainly the man by his side. "Robert E… something's happened… what's happened… how'd I get here?" Sully continued, a dark reality pressing in on him, although he wasn't able to recall exactly what it was.

"I'll talk to you… just promise you won't go moving around, or I'll have to get Matthew back in here." Robert E. waited until Sully nodded in agreement, before taking a breath and recounting the events of the previous few days.

"Well, after we found Dr Mike Wednesday morning, Wolf," Robert E. gestured to the animal panting softly next to the edge of the bed, "came back into town and we went out looking for you again. Took two days, but eventually we found you. You were hurt bad, Sully. At the bottom of a cliff, unconscious. We figured you were gonna die for sure but Dr Mike operated on you later Thursday night," Robert E. trailed off, sensing that Sully wasn't really as concerned with the details of his own rescue as he was that of Michaela's.

"But… she… she's all right?" He queried, phrasing the question hopefully, an abhorrent reality nagging at him, however convinced he was merely confusing events from many days prior. Sully inhaled slowly, waiting for the eventual reply.

"Sully…I, I didn't wanna be the one to have to tell you this," Robert E. watched the man's face crumble, the pain running through his eyes like a bolt of lightening.

"I was thinkin' maybe it weren't true… that I'd imagined it… somehow," Sully's voice was soft and weak.

As Robert E. prepared for the imminent movement that was to follow, both men turned at the sound of a male voice.

"So, there really is another patient down here? Thought someone was just delirious," Dr Cassidy made his presence felt instantly, resting his arm casually on the door frame as he took several steps into the room, approaching the bed, side and shooing Robert E. back towards the door.

"Out of my way, man… What on earth?" Dr Cassidy reached a hand to the bandage around Sully's head, carefully removing it, a challenge considering he was hell-bent on attempting to get to his feet.

"Will you just calm down… just let me examine you," Dr Cassidy ordered, Sully extremely reluctantly obeying by at least ceasing his physical protest.

"Dr Mike… is she awake?" His voice was stronger, Dr Cassidy delicately exposed the sutured wound at the back of Sully's head.

"Was a few minutes ago, not exactly lucid but awake." He had no comprehension of Michaela and Sully's friendship, aside from the fact that she wasn't married to him.

"I, I have to see her." Sully pulled away from the Doctor's grasp, groggily dragging his feet to the edge of the bed.

"Now listen, you'll stay here until I've finished inspecting your injuries. God only knows what kind of a mess that woman managed to make. Absolute miracle you're alive at all." Dr Cassidy felt the incision site, feeling the small circular hole in his skull, underneath the surface of sutured skin.

"My, my… aren't we determined. Another successful trephining procedure… Probably done purely to settle the score with me over that rider." He muttered under his breath, replacing the bandage and quickly checking Sully's vital signs.

"Now can I?" Sully inched towards the edge of the bed, barely waiting for the exasperated nod before getting unsteadily to his feet and moving quickly from the room.

"He's wasting his time," Dr Cassidy shook his head with resignation, as Robert E. followed Sully out into the corridor.

**X.O.X**

Olive brought the glass to Michaela's lips, brushing her hair from her face softly.

"Sorry I didn't get up here sooner. Dorothy was right, that man has no manners. What did he say?" She placed the glass on the small table beside the bed, at a loss as to what action to take.

Upon entering the room several minutes ago, she'd observed Dr Cassidy concluding his examination, showing no regard for the expression of mortal dread running across Michaela's face. Quickly intervening, Olive had received a brisk dismissal from the male doctor, however was more alarmed by Michaela's lack of reaction. For a woman who was every bit as tough, defensive and sure of her self as was Olive, Michaela appeared physically paralyzed, and didn't move an inch until Dr Cassidy had left the room to check on his next patient. Having helped Dr Mike drink several sips of water, Olive firmly believed it was time for someone to get her talking.

"Dr Mike… you gotta say something… please?" Olive gripped the woman's hand securely. Whilst there was no visible response, Olive could not have known the degree of mental angst being inflicted upon her friend.

Unbeknownst to the children, Dorothy, Dr Cassidy or Olive, Michaela had been more than aware of everything going on around her. From the moment she'd pictured the scalpel in her hand, memories of the previous day had flooded back into her mind.

_Sully. He'd been alive all along._ Michaela had felt the overwhelming, guilt wash over her, turning her blood cold at the very realization. She's thought him dead from the moment her eyes had landed on his motionless form at the bottom of the cliff. Not wanting to believe it, she'd called his name; however, when there was neither movement nor reply, her worst fears were confirmed. From that moment on, Michaela had resigned herself to the belief that he truly had died in that fall, and with his death, so died her hopes for a future with him. Vividly remembering the events that followed, Michaela wished she done something differently.

_Had I known Sully was alive, I would never have let them take me from the cliff. I would have fought to remain with him. I should have struggled more; I might have found a way to escape. Why did I let him drag me into the tepee; I should have resisted. _

An inconsolable regret tugged at her every second, all that time he'd been lying there, unconscious. All those days.

Olive looked from their locked hands to Michaela's blank expression, knowing she somehow had to get through to her. Wanting to physically shake her by this stage, Olive squeezed her right hand tighter, repeating her name.

"Dr Mike, you don't say something soon, that Doctor's gonna send you away. Come on… I know you can hear me," Olive increased the volume and pitch of her voice, reaching for the water glass she had placed down only moments before.

"Dr Mike?" Olive raised an eyebrow, stating her name once more before leaning forwards and reluctantly throwing the glass of water across Michaela's face. Smiling softly when she saw the primitive expression of shock and defense flash into Dr Mike's eyes, she knew she's been successful.

"I'm sorry I had to do that," Olive replaced the glass on the nearby table, handing Michaela a cloth to wipe the water from her face, still gasping for breath.

"What, I," Michaela managed to catch her breath, recognizing Olive instantly.

"Dr Mike, you had to have an operation, did Dr Cassidy talk to you about it?" Olive was relieved that her friend was at least now maintaining eye contact with her.

"I don't remember," Michaela drew an awkward breath, forcing her mind not to drift away into previous memories.

"Well, you were, he said he, everything's going to be fine," Olive spoke gingerly, however never being one to shy away from sensitive moments.

There was a long pause before Michaela finally spoke, "Olive? Did I perform surgery?" Michaela looked down towards her right hand.

Waiting several moments, Olive realized she had to be honest.

"Yes. Thursday night, when the men brought Sully home, or so I've been told. Apparently he was bleeding in his brain, like Brian had, and you insisted on operatin'." Olive relayed the information, Michaela nodding in receipt of the information.

"Is he all right?" she whispered, after a significant silence.

Olive smiled quickly, nodding, "more worried about you than himself, as usual." She watched as Michaela's face fell.

"He knows?" she struggled to find her voice, once again looking away.

"I'm sorry, Dr Mike, we didn't have no choice," Olive frowned, hearing footsteps in the corridor.

Just as Olive turned in response to the noise, Sully appeared in the doorway, still gripping the frame after his long climb up the stairs. Although physically weak, his spirit had pulled him on, he knew he had to see her. Noticing Olive sitting beside the bed, Sully's eyes quickly met Michaela's, she being the one to break the glance, lowering her head and turning away. Olive looked from the fire in Sully's eyes to Michaela's dropped head, deciding to leave them alone.

"I'll wait downstairs with the children. Sully, sit down." She rose to her feet and left silently; Sully remaining perched against the doorframe.

After several moments, Sully crossed the room, the only sound being his bare feet sliding across the wooden floorboards, taking a seat beside her bed. Michaela remained perfectly still, as he glanced from her hands, which were laying in her lap. His eyes narrowed when he took in the purplish-blue of her bruised wrists. Looking quickly to her brushed hair trailing down her back, Sully realized he couldn't see her face. Her eyes. He needed to see her eyes.

"Michaela, look at me," he whispered, wanting to reach out and hold her, wrap his arms around her frail shoulders as he had several days earlier. He couldn't, as much as he wanted to, he knew she needed space. Sully was about to repeat his request, tilting his head slightly as he heard what almost sounded like her voice, only smaller, thinner.

"No," she replied, lowering her head further to her chest, still at a forty-five degree angle from him so he could only see the back of her head and right ear.

Her response hit him like gunfire, he'd expected tears, silence, but not that. Feeling the guilt push up from his stomach, Sully studied the floorboards for several moments,

"I'm sorry… I don't know what else to say… there ain't nothin' I can say can makes things right. I just wish I coulda stopped it… I woulda done anything… I," Sully felt the tears land on his cheeks, knowing that mere words would never be able to undo the hurt that he had allowed to happen. He too was replaying memories in his conscious mind, wishing he'd done something differently during the struggle with One Eye. If only he hadn't been able to get him off-balance. Sully shook his head, knowing that trying to turn back time was pointless. He swallowed; it was the here and now that mattered, nothing else.

"Michaela… please… look at me, talk to me, say something. I need to know you're all right," Sully felt as if his heart was being gripped by a vice, he needed to hear her voice, see her face.

"I… I'm fine," she replied, her voice colorless and barely audible.

"Well, you sure don't sound it." He knew she was feeling just as uncomfortable as he was, however he also knew that he had to break her out of this.

"Michaela, look at me!" Sully reached forward to rest his hand on her right shoulder feeling her tense underneath his grasp.

"I can't. I don't want to see you." She pulled away, clasping her hands together in her lap.

Sully removed his hand, and set his jaw firm. It was true, he realized; she blamed him every bit as much as he blamed himself.

"God, I'm sorry Michaela… I… I'll let you rest," Sully stood slowly, not wanting to leave her side, but not wanting to cause her further distress.

"Michaela, I'll be here," he whispered, certain she didn't want him around, however wanting to assure her he did not blame her for what had happened. He loved her more in that very moment than he'd ever imagined. He'd have given anything to feel the pain for her, to spare her the humiliation and gossip he knew would follow. He'd have given his life for her, if only that would have been enough. He'd have died a thousand times out there if he could have prevented this happening. Glancing at her a final time before departing from the room, Sully reminded himself once again that it was futile.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"I'll remove the sutures on Monday, and assuming there are no further problems, I'll leave on the next stage… Wednesday isn't it?" Dr Cassidy queried, looking up at Dorothy.

"That's correct." She nodded, resting her hands on Brian's shoulders as he squirmed restlessly in front of her.

"I also heard somebody mention there were rooms across the street in the Saloon?" He frowned, not exactly enthralled with the small town.

"Yes, although you're welcome to stay here?" Dorothy offered, receiving a sharp look of dissatisfaction.

"Ah, no… best give everyone some privacy. But feel free to send for me should you need any medical assistance. A few days rest will do me good." He smiled, tipping his hat as he made his way out of the Clinic door.

"So, can we see Ma again now?" Brian pulled away from Dorothy's grasp eagerly, looking up at her.

"Well, I don't know about that, sweetheart, Sully's spending some time with her." Olive informed the two children, having been standing across the room gazing out of the front window.

"No, he's not," Came a dark voice from the corridor, the three looking up as Sully entered the room slowly.

"Sully!" Brian rushed to his side, hugging him.

"Hey Brian," he trailed off, looking awkwardly at Dorothy, returning the hug weakly.

"How about you two go up and see if your ma wants something to eat?" Dorothy smiled as Brian and Colleen quickly left the room, arriving at Sully's side as he leant once again against the doorframe.

"You don't look so good," Olive ventured, seeing his bloodshot eyes and downcast glance.

"Didn't go so well," he whispered, Dorothy cringing slightly, disappointed at the outcome.

"Doesn't surprise me. She's been out of it since we got you back Thursday. Dorothy, you said she seemed all right up 'til then… talking and all," Olive looked to her sister-in-law for confirmation.

"Well… ah… yes… she was, I suppose," Dorothy considered the fact that Michaela's change in mood coincided specifically with Sully's return.

"So then it's me? Thought as much," Sully muttered, letting his eyes drop closed.

Olive and Dorothy met eyes immediately, each about to refute his statement, however realizing that perhaps there was some truth in it.

"Just give her some time, Sully. You need to rest as well." Dorothy instructed, resting her hand on his upper arm.

"Can someone tell me what happened?" He looked between each of the women, raising his head slightly.

"I don't think-" Dorothy began, Sully quickly cutting her off.

"I said _tell_ me. I feel like I'm in the dark," he reiterated, looking at Olive pleadingly. She nodded to Dorothy, who slowly began retelling the events since Michaela's rescue.

**X.O.X**

"I told you, you're leaving on the next stage. Ain't nothin' of interest here." Hank poured two shot glasses of whiskey handing one to the reporter.

"I'm afraid I have to disagree with you there… all sounds mighty interestin' from where I'm sittin'." Eli quickly downed the drink, the pair looking up as Dr Cassidy entered the Saloon, gazing around distastefully at the run-down interior.

"Ah yes, Hank wasn't it?" He recognized his replacement rider immediately, greeting him with a warm smile.

"Doc Cassidy, heard you were back in town… What can I do for ya?" Hank smiled, offering him a drink.

"Ah, no, thanks. Seems I need somewhere to stay for a few days, until the next stage comes," the gray-haired physician replied, tired from a night cramped in the Clinic.

"Of course… got a room all ready for ya! Right this way," Hank began, suddenly remembering the reporter's presence "oh, allow me to introduce, Eli Woods here, from the Denver Herald." He gestured to the red-haired man by Dr Cassidy's side.

"That's Denver Daily Chronicle, and you are?" Eli extended his hand with a weak smile.

"Doctor Thomas Cassidy, M.D." he shook the reporter's hand warmly.

"For such a small town, we seem to be inundated with doctors, don't we?" Eli smiled motioning for Hank to refill his glass.

"Oh perhaps just the one," Dr Cassidy accepted the second offer of a drink, sipping slowly from the glass.

"I'm guessing you're here as a result of all this unpleasantness, got you mopping up, so to speak." Eli settled into the bar stool, Hank looking very uneasily between the two new men.

"Well, you could say that, yes… I'd imagine you're here to report it all?" Dr Cassidy continued, spying the opportunity for some publicity.

"You'd imagine correctly, my good man. How'd you fancy featuring in a front page article?" Eli nudged Dr Cassidy's arm encouragingly.

"I've never been able to refuse a chance at… shall we say… getting my name around. I'd be surprised if you and I can't strike up a deal," Thomas Cassidy replied, quickly finishing his drink, Hank shaking his head as he again refilled their glasses, sighing as he watched the men plot their story.

**X.O.X**

Brian reached the top of the stairs, pacing down the corridor towards Michaela's room. He stopped at the ajar door, lowering his head when he heard the sound of crying.

"Ma?" He whispered, resting his small hand on the doorknob, sliding carefully through the doorway, slipping into the room.

Michaela reacted immediately to the noise, dropping her hands from her face and brushing the tears from her eyes and cheeks with her fingertips.

"Brian," she acknowledged, gesturing for the young boy to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. He tentatively obeyed, having been chastised for the same behavior only several days earlier.

"Colleen's gettin' us some lunch," he whispered, watching as she took his hand, their fingers interlocking. Michaela nodded, her left arm stoking his back.

"Ma?" Brian began, however quickly silencing and turning his head away, fascinating himself with his untied shoelace dangling towards the ground.

"What's the matter, Brian?" Michaela knew her son's personality too well, aware of when he was trying to hide something.

"Noth, Nothin'," he stuttered, shaking his head.

"Brian, you know you can talk to me about anything," Michaela became conscious of a lump in her throat, not sure if she truly meant 'anything'.

"Are you mad at Sully?" The young boy asked, flashing a glance at her, before quickly returning his eyes downwards towards the floor.

Michaela felt a knot form in her stomach at the mention of his name, and from the expression on Brian's face he knew more than his words let on.

"I…no… of course not. What makes you think that?" She tilted her head to the side, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"I dunno, just what people been sayin'," the young boy squirmed slightly, feeling incredibly conflicted.

"What have they been saying?" Michaela queried, immediately faced with the reality that the events from the last few days would now be anything but private.

"That what happened was his fault. Coz he said he was gonna find ya and he didn't." Brian concluded, idly kicking the backs of his shoes with each foot in turn.

Michaela let her eyes drop closed momentarily, choosing her words carefully.

"Brian, I do not blame Sully, don't you ever think otherwise. No matter what anyone says." She gripped his shoulder, forcing him to look at her again.

"I didn't think ya woulda, but Matthew," Brian stopped abruptly, chewing on his lower lip.

"Matthew blames him?" Michaela frowned, feeling overwhelmed by the disclosure.

"Yeah, he thinks Sully was just trying to play the hero, not letting everyone go out to look for ya. That we shoulda let him die," Brian dropped his head, a familiar awkwardness creeping over him.

Michaela was speechless for several moments, Brian's words playing over in her mind. Taking a moment to decide how to handle this, she kept her expression blank, and turned to the boy.

"You don't believe that, do you?" She knew Brian had not agreed with his brother, or else he wouldn't have needed to discuss it with her.

"No," he answered quickly, feeling isolated. He glanced quickly from his mother back down towards the floor, having been confused by all the displays of raw emotion he'd witnessed over the past few days.

"Brian? You look sad?" Michaela tried to lean closer towards him, fighting physical discomfort and uncertainty.

"I missed ya," he whispered, his jaw trembling as he tried to hold back the tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh, Brian," Michaela reached forward, arms outstretched to engulf the small boy in a hug. Feeling the physical contact, Michaela was compelled to look downwards, as if to dissuade the automatic anxiety within her. Satisfied by the realization that it really was Brian, she began stroking the child's blond hair.

"Ma, I'm sorry ya got hurt," Brian rested his head against her chest, allowing the tears to drop to his cheeks. Michaela's arms tightening around his shoulders in response to his weeping.

**X.O.X**

"I just, I didn't know what to say to her. I still can't believe it," Sully had allowed Dorothy to help him back to bed, before continuing their conversation.

"None of us could. But then again, there weren't time for it to sink in, we were too busy trying to keep her alive." Dorothy pulled the quilt over him, taking a seat beside the bed.

"But we were on our way back, we were only a few hours from town… everything was fine," Sully recounted the events leading up to his fall, Dorothy shaking her head compassionately.

"It's not your fault, you did your best. Michaela'll come around. I think she was just so shocked. I mean, she thought you were dead, and then all of a sudden you weren't. She'd gone through so much thinking she'd never see you again so that when she finally did, it was overwhelming."

"So you don't think she blames me?" Sully turned his head, knowing that even if she didn't blame him, he'd feel responsible for the rest of his life.

"Of course not. If anything, she blames herself. She feels guilty for having survived." Dorothy tried to explain, seeing the look of confusion sweep across Sully's face.

"I don't understand." He narrowed his eyes, looking Dorothy up and down for clarification.

"Sully… I… I don't know if you knew… I don't even know if I should be telling you… before… she hadn't… she'd never," Dorothy stopped when Sully broke their glance, his eyelids dropping as his voice lowered to a whisper.

"I know." He didn't feel the need to explain any further. Although Michaela had of course never told him directly, Sully knew instinctively that this was one area of her life in which she struggled. He'd known from the time they'd started courting, probably even before that. He'd known from her modestly, her coyness. He'd known from how hurt she'd been when he'd accepted the kiss from Catherine. He just knew.

"And from her upbringing, as it is for most women, myself included, she believed she was expected to fight, to the death if need be, to protect herself. But she had to consider the children. She was put into a terrible place, Sully. She's ashamed, still trying to convince herself she made the right decision." Dorothy explained, awaiting Sully's response.

"She did." He blinked, not speaking for several moments, looking down at Wolf sleeping by the side of the bed. "I wish I'd known sooner. I probably made things worse. I'll keep my distance until she's ready. I just wish I coulda stopped this nightmare," His voice faded, words unable to describe the helpless remorse flooding through his body.

"Blaming yourself won't help, either. Just gonna make you feel bad. It'll take time, but I'm sure everything will work out. She's a strong woman, she won't let this beat her." Dorothy nodded her head, as if trying to give her words more strength.

Sully was distracted, finding something in his pocket. Slowly pulling out the beaded necklace, he let his eyes drop closed, breath escaping his mouth in a drawn-out sigh.

"What are those?" Dorothy frowned, immediately picking up on the emotional impact the object had had on her friend.

"They belonged to Cloud Dancin's son, Walks on Cloud. He was killed. He died… for nothing in the end," Sully reflected on the ramifications this would have on the town's relationship with the Cheyenne Indians.

"Cloud Dancin', I have to tell him," Sully immediately knew his brother would be shattered by the news of his son's death.

"Sully, you have to look after yourself. You nearly died, you know?" Dorothy rested a hand on his shoulder, afraid he would try to move from the bed.

"You're right. I just, everything's fallen apart. What'll the town think of the Indians now," Sully shook his head, slipping the beads back into his pocket.

"The people who matter won't think anything. They'll know the difference. Just rest Sully, please. Until Dr Cassidy says you're fit." Dorothy smiled in relief when he dropped his head back to the pillow, taking several breaths and closing his eyes.

**X.O.X**

Michaela listened to the young boy's cries continue for over a minute, unable to respond. She was once again confronted with the events of the past few days, feeling the anxiety begin to consume her. Looking down at the child in her arms, Michaela knew she had to be strong for him. From the strength of his tears, she knew her absence alone had caused him unbearable distress. She was reminded of the promise she'd made to herself many days earlier. That she had to survive; for the children if not for herself. Having already lost one mother, Brian was always frightened that he would again be forced through such an ordeal and Michaela knew that allowing herself to fall apart, to give in to the emotions she was feeling would break his spirit. Adjusting her arms around him, Michaela ran her left hand slowly down his back, her heart absorbing the pain she knew he was feeling, however her determination preventing her from crying with him. Michaela knew if she allowed what had happened to traumatize her children, she may as well have died out there. She had surrendered herself to protect her children from loss and pain, and giving into her own grief now would only deprive them of a second mother; her sacrifice would be worthless.

Feeling his grasp tighten, Michaela realized he had stopped crying and was gently inspecting the grazes on the back of her hand. Cupping his chin, she distracted him from his concern over her, looking deeply into his eyes.

"Brian, I don't want you to worry about anything that's happened. All that matters is that I'm back here, with you, with Colleen and Matthew. We're still a family and nothing is ever going to change that," Michaela's words were quietly spoken; however they contained a strength more powerful than volume alone. Brian held her gaze, longer than she expected him to, as if he, despite his tender years, was able to interpret the underlying motivation behind her words.

"Are we gonna all get to go home soon?" he responded after a long silence. Michaela took a breath, realizing he'd perceived her message; she wanted his life to continue as it had been.

"Yes, sweetheart, I promise. In a few days," Michaela couldn't ignore the resilience he was able to display. The hope-filled excitement in his voice forced her to break into a soft smile, as she squeezed his shoulder with her free hand.

"Good, Pup'll be missin' me," he continued, Michaela pushing negative thoughts away, as she strived to see the world through his optimistic eyes.

"Not to mention, I believe someone had a birthday recently?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, the effort to remain in the child's world becoming easier.

He nodded, eyes sparkling as he'd resigned himself to the belief that with everything that had happened, his birthday would have been forgotten.

"I thought everyone woulda forgot about it," Brian confirmed, his smile widening.

"How could we? You still haven't told me what you wanted." Michaela looked up as Colleen entered the room carrying a tray of food.

"Well, Matthew made it so I could work for Hank for the horse, but then he sold her anyway, even after he promised I could have her," Brian began retelling her the events of the past week, Colleen struggling to get his attention to hand him cutlery and the plate of meatloaf.

Michaela managed to catch eyes with her daughter, as they glanced down at Brian, eagerly chatting away.

"Brian, I don't think," Colleen attempted to hush Brian from his frivolous conversation, Michaela shaking her hand quickly in objection.

"It's all right, Colleen." she smiled in reassurance, as Brian recommenced his story, taking mouthfuls of his lunch between sentences.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**X.O.X**

**Monday, 15****th**** May, 1869**

_**Two Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"It's been two whole days, Loren, maybe I should say something… I mean, if she doesn't face him sooner or later it's only gonna make it more difficult." Dorothy rested her chin in her hand, her elbow balanced upon the countertop.

"Will you just leave well enough alone, woman! Stop all this interferin'," he grumbled, trying to prepare the store for opening.

"I ain't interferin', I'm just… well… tryin' to help. You could at least show some concern." Dorothy shook her head, turning to stack some cans against the back wall.

"You're meddlin'. Pure and simple. And don't you go tryin' to tell me how to act. I'm stayin' out of the whole mess. Between you and that sister a mine, Dr. Mike's gonna have the rest of her life planned out anyway. 'Sides, the men've got things under control. We're doin' what needs to be done." Loren nodded, satisfied that the cash box contained enough change for the day.

"And what's that supposed to mean? 'Doin' what needs to be done'?" Dorothy stopped working, a single can of beans grasped in her right hand, the other moving to her hip as she faced her brother-in-law.

"Well, with all you women fussin' 'round, we all got together, decided to hold a town meetin'. Set things straight." Loren closed the lid of the cash box, looking around for his next task.

"Loren Bray, what on earth are you talking about?" Dorothy frowned, trying to make sense of his words.

"Just that. The Reverend, Jake and I decided we'd quietly get everyone together, the men folk anyway. Just make sure people know what's happened, so no-one starts any rumors or nothin'. Stop everything gettin' out a hand." Loren finished his sentence quickly, seeing some merchandise that needed to be displayed.

"Oh, tell me you're not serious? That's the last thing Michaela needs, everyone talking about her, knowing stuff that's private." Dorothy was appalled by the plan, placing the can down quickly, to get Loren's attention.

"It ain't like that. It's just… when something like this happens… people talk… and stories get…well… exaggerated. It's important we get the truth out there, make sure people know the facts, and know not to make it a big deal or nothin'…" Loren began refilling several candy jars.

"Sounds like a giant gossip session to me. Beside, it'll only be a big deal if you make it one. And having a public debate about it is just gonna encourage people. You can't do this, Loren. It's wrong," Dorothy lowered the pitch of her voice as she spoke, Loren giving up in exasperation and meeting eyes with her.

"Well… it was an idea, is all. We were tryin' to do what we thought best. I'll pass word that it's cancelled, but don't go blaming me if we get all sorts a rumors spreading 'round here within a week. You don't give the people in this town the facts, they'll just start makin 'em up for themselves. Tell me how much damage that'll do…" Loren concluded, heading out through the front door to arrange the verandah for the day's trade.

**X.O.X**

"You really don't have to fuss over me like this…" Michaela handed the breakfast tray back to Colleen, Brian running into the room.

"School's on, Colleen! Come on! I just heard from Steven, it's back on for sure today!" Whilst most children had enjoyed the break from school due to the recent troubles with the dog soldiers' raids over the last week, Brian was eager to get back his 'book-learning'.

"Oh… well, you go ahead, I just have to finish here, I'll catch you up…" Colleen piled the plates and utensils on the tray, Brian climbing onto the side of the bed more confidently this time.

"No, really, Colleen… go with your brother… I can manage…" Michaela hugged the boy tightly, as Colleen reluctantly left the tray on the edge of the bed.

"Bye, Ma, I'll come see ya at lunch, if the Reverend'll let me." Brian smiled, reaching for Colleen's hand and practically dragging her through the doorway.

Michaela sighed, looking around the now empty room. Although momentarily grateful for the solitude, she soon realized she was left with her own thoughts once again, and nothing to distract her away from them. Noticing the tray at the end of the bed, several plates around it, Michaela pushed the quilt aside, deciding if she was to keep her promise to Brian to go home soon, she'd have to get back on her feet first.

Placing her hands either side of her body for support, Michaela tentatively drew her knees up slightly, aware of how stiff her legs were from days of bed rest. Taking a breath, she quickly rotated herself to the edge of the bed, allowed her feet to slowly drop to the ground, the floorboards cold under her bare feet. Swallowing, not knowing whether she was actually going to be able to make it upright, Michaela shifted her weight to her legs, aware of a dull ache radiating through her lower body. In a quick movement, she stood, relieved when she didn't notice any overwhelming discomfort. After taking a very hesitant step forwards, Michaela allowed the air in her lungs to escape. She felt much more comfortable than she had days earlier. Turning back towards the bed, Michaela saw the unmistakable dark crimson stain against the white bed sheet.

A hand covering her mouth spontaneously, Michaela squeezed her eyes closed, trying desperately to stop her mind reliving random flashbacks, she immediately tossed the quilt back over the bed, focusing her attention on her previous task of stacking the breakfast dishes and placing the tray securely on the table in the corner of the room. Having completed her assigned duty, Michaela found herself again at a loss for distraction, quickly searching the wardrobe for a dressing gown. She pulled the material around her body tightly, beginning to button the front, when she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

**X.O.X**

"That's three dollars eighty. Thanks…" Loren accepted the money, hearing the coins hit the metal bottom of the cash tin as he handed Jake the groceries.

"So… how's…. everything?" The barber questioned, an eyebrow raised.

"Why you askin' me? You know I don't go in for all that stuff…" Loren brushed Jake's curiosity off, suddenly remembering he needed to discuss a change of plan.

"Don't be ridiculous, Loren. You're the one keeping the town up to date… My customer's been askin' questions… So?" Jake pressed the issue, knowing deep down Loren was a soft touch.

"Aww, for heaven's sake… all right…" Loren sighed in resolution, stepping out from behind the counter to stand closer to Jake's side.

"Well, all I know is she still hadn't spoken to Sully. But apart from that, Dorothy says everything's fine. Apparently she and the children are going home Wednesday, which reminds me… that ah… little meeting idea I had… turns out it might not be such a great plan… Perhaps we'd best just call it off?" Loren kept his voice low, aware of the attention he was receiving from other customers.

"You were the one who suggested it, though… Can't say I'm fussed either way, but I'll pass it around. Thanks again, Loren." Jake retrieved his goods from the counter, leaving the store briskly.

**X.O.X**

Michaela had perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed when she saw the familiar face appear in the doorway.

"Morning, Dr. Mike… are you... is everything all right?" Olive entered the room, looking Michaela up and down worriedly.

"Fine." She stated simply "I… I just thought it was about time I was back on my feet again…" Michaela looked away from Olive's glance, not sure what the response would be.

"Well, if you feel up to it. Dr. Cassidy said he was gonna stop by this morning, guess you can get dressed after that, that is, if you want to?" Olive frowned, somewhat confused by Michaela's attitude the past few days. Whilst she'd remained quiet and thoughtful most of Saturday, Sunday had seen her playing checkers with Brian and later helping Colleen to fix a hem on a dress. Olive was thrilled her friend seemed to be recovering well, but something just wasn't sitting right with her.

"That would be nice. I promised Brian we'd be going home as soon as possible, and that's not going to happen if I'm still stuck in bed all day." Michaela brought her gaze back to Olive's face as she spoke, mustering all the conviction she could into one very put-together expression.

"You've a point, I suppose. But if you do want to talk… about anything… I'm here…" Olive crossed the room, sitting on Michaela's left side.

"I… I don't," she replied, without missing a beat, her voice hollow and sharp.

Olive detected the strain in her voice, deciding to change the subject.

"Brian sure seemed excited to be heading back to school… that boy… I tell you…" Olive shook her head, breaking out into a smile.

Michaela nodded quickly, her thoughts moving quickly to the children, as Olive stood to reach for the tray.

"I'll just take this back to Grace's… anything you need?" She spoke, intrigued as Michaela's reaction appeared significantly delayed.

"No," she replied after several moments, Olive heading back out through the recovery room door.

**X.O.X**

"Well, I trust everyone's pleased to be back?" The Reverend spoke, looking around the room at the sea of young faces. Brian, sitting next to Steven in his usual front row seat, nodded immediately, poking his friend in the arm as he appeared to be drifting back to sleep.

"Now, I know everyone's probably eager to get the results from their last spelling test, but I thought I'd talk to you about a surprise I've been planning. What do you say we all write our own play, and perform it for the town?" The Reverend waited for the expected uproar of enthusiasm, surprised when the class remained silent.

"Well?" He prompted again, somewhat disheartened, before realizing that the expected enthusiasm would normally have come from Brian, who remained still in his seat, distracted by playing with a piece of chalk.

"Brian? What do you think?" Timothy approached the boy's desk, Steven waking up quickly on hearing his teacher's voice closer than it had previously been.

"Huh… sorry Reverend… sounds great!" Brian quickly took in the Reverend's words.

"I thought you'd enjoy something like that. Now, first we all have to decide what we want the play to be about…" the Reverend noticed Alice's hand raised, and granted her permission to speak.

"Will we have fancy costumes, Reverend?" She queried, always ecstatic around the chance to be the center of attention.

"I… I guess so… Colleen, given your brilliant writing skills, I thought you might like to help us write the play?" Timothy continued, again finding it difficult to engage the Cooper children in the proposed activity.

"Sure…" She looked up from her seat next to Becky, a weak smile crossing her face.

"Excellent. So who has an idea for the play?" He continued, fighting against the whispering and giggling coming from the back of the room.

"Benjamin, you seem to have a lot to say, how about contributing to the discussion?" The Reverend spoke, his tone sterner this time.

"Me, Reverend? Well… what if… ah… there was a doctor…." He began looking across at his best friend Cal, who smirked, finishing his sentence for him.

"Who got abducted by a bunch of Injuns…" The two boys burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter, the entire room soon erupting in conversation.

Colleen turned quickly to her brother, whose jaw had dropped in shock, the pair locking eyes as the Reverend tried to control the rest of the class.

"All right, that's enough! I expected more of you Cal, and you too Benjamin. I just want to say right now, that I won't tolerate any gossiping in school, and you're both old enough to know better!" Timothy drew a breath, stunned at their insensitive behavior.

Waiting several moments for the class to settle down again, Timothy continued his discussion, however conscious of the low whispering between almost every child at one point or another.

**X.O.X**

Dr. Cassidy dropped the instruments into the bowl next to him on the bed, wiping his hands, and turning to Olive.

"It's probably too early to have taken the sutures out, but if there are any complications I'd rather know about them now. Too late once I'm on the stage back to Denver." He stood quickly, Olive draping the quilt back over Michaela who remained entranced, her eyelids dropped closed and head turned throughout the painful examination.

"If need be we'll wire you…" Olive was momentarily distracted by the polarized change in Michaela's behavior over the previous half an hour.

Thomas Cassidy nodded, collecting his things and indicating for Olive to join him in the corridor.

"You're gonna have your hands full with that one… Physically just watch for any bleeding and try to keep her as quiet as possible for a few weeks… although… by the looks of things, that won't be a problem." Olive cut him off, gripping his arm.

"On the contrary Doctor, before… before you got here, she seemed absolutely fine. That's what I don't understand… one minute she'll be as if nothing's happened… next… well… practically paralyzed." Olive removed her arm, sensing the Doctor's discomfort with the gesture.

"Yes, well, that's to be expected in these cases of hysteria. Give it a few months, if there's no improvement, I've a colleague who's a psychiatrist… he can make any necessary arrangements." Dr. Cassidy sighed, convinced that this would prove the only viable outcome.

"I really don't think…" Olive interjected in Michaela's defense.

"But I trust you'll leave it up to those of us with the proper qualifications. Now, I've another patient," he replied instantly, tipping his hat and striding down the hallway towards the stairs.

Olive turned around facing back into the room, gazing at Michaela's still motionless form. Reaching a hand to her temple, Olive pushed her hair from her face, deciding then and there that Thomas Cassidy would not be proven right. Stepping into the room, Olive took a seat by Michaela's beside, reaching for her hand. Surprised when Michaela moved slightly, Olive smiled, leaning forward.

"Thought you were asleep for a moment there…" She watched as Michaela slowly opened her eyes, looking around the room worriedly.

"He's gone, just us." Olive reassured, aware of the relief appearing on Michaela's face.

"What did he say?" Michaela asked, tightening her jaw and trying to sit up, Olive resting a hand quickly on her shoulder in protest.

"That you're to stay in bed for a few more days. He thinks you'll be fine to go home Wednesday, so long as you take it easy. You can get dressed if you want, but you're not moving around or nothin', ya hear?" Olive removed her hand, letting it drop to her side as Michaela nodded.

Olive got to her feet, quickly fetching Michaela a change of clothes from the wardrobe, laying them on the edge of the bed.

"I'll be downstairs, come back and check on you in a few minutes." Olive moved to the doorway, Michaela once again managing to get to her feet, nodding her reply.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"What is it with everyone today?" Olive shook her head, entering the downstairs recovery room to see Sully searching around and under the bed.

"Where's all my stuff?" Sully appeared not to hear her passing comment, indicating to his waist, as he continued looking under the bed for his belt.

"I… I don't know… maybe it's still in the other room…" Olive supplied, Sully eventually sitting back down on the bed.

"Sully… you gotta take it easy… now what did Doc Cassidy say before?" Olive folded her arms tightly, leaning against the chest of drawers, satisfied that at least Sully had stopped moving.

"Nothin' much, you know what he's like. Said everything's fine." Sully checked under the quilt and pillows, more in a display of determination, as opposed to exactly expecting to find anything.

"Well, did he want you to stay in bed, what?" Olive extended her arms, requesting more detailed information.

"Don't think so… Just said no sudden movements, watch for any bleeding…" Sully once again got to his feet, pacing around the room.

It was slowly becoming clear to Olive that Sully wasn't preoccupied with finding his tomahawk and knife so much as he was feeling out of place, uncomfortable even.

"Sully… sit down…" Olive tried to corner him against a wall, his eyes darting around the room in frustration.

"I can't… I gotta do something…" He clenched his fists, and Olive momentarily feared he was going to lash out at her.

"Ssh… I know… I know how you feel…" She lowered her voice, reaching nervously for his right arm to calm him down.

"No you don't. It's not something a woman can ever understand… It's… when she was out there… before… I, I kept my distance, but I was there… I always knew where she was, and then when I finally got the chance… we traveled the entire night, Olive. In the dark, swimming through lakes and climbing over rocks… It was horrendous, but we managed it. The next afternoon, we rested, waited until nightfall, then began traveling again. Only a few hours from town where the dog soldiers caught up with us, and then it was just so quick… I remember a scuffle, and then falling… then nothing until I woke up here." He turned, gesturing to the bed behind him.

Olive, about to contribute her thoughts, paused in reflection. She was not a woman who usually gave her words a second thought, however, she realized she truly did not have any appreciation for what went on out there.

"I don't know where I stand anymore. Michaela's made it pretty clear she doesn't want me around… I can understand that… but what about the children, they're gonna need someone lookin' out for 'em. I just wish I knew what she wanted… I wish I knew how to help…" Sully looked up, his voice dropped to a whisper, tears causing his eyes to glisten.

"Sully, you're not the only one in the dark… none of us know what to do… At the moment I'm just trying to do what needs doin'; keeping everyone comfortable." Olive paused, deciding to tell him all she knew.

"Dr. Mike's planning to go home with the children on Wednesday," she offered the information, almost under her breath.

Sully nodded, taking in her words, showing no emotional reaction to them. The reply that followed was dull, emotionally flat and resolved.

"I need to spend some time on my own, anyway. Thinking. Need to find out why everything went so wrong. Sort things out with Cloud Dancin'. I'll probably see the children in town now and again… tell Michaela it's up to her if she…" Sully was interrupted by a voice emanating from the hallway.

"No." Both Sully and Olive were startled by the sound, Olive turning quickly around, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Dr. Mike?" Olive strode across the room to the doorway, aware of the accusatory tone in her voice.

Michaela swallowed, looking at Olive awkwardly, before her gaze drifted past her to Sully. Feeling uneasiness set in, Michaela drew another breath, hoping her voice would come out stronger this time.

"May I… I mean… might you give us a few minutes?" Michaela, neatly dressed in her green blouse and skirt, hair traditionally plaited over her left shoulder, stepped into the room.

Olive looked awkwardly from Sully and then back to Michaela, realizing she really had no choice but to leave them.

"I'll um… be down the hall…" She finished her sentence, feeling the tension build in the air as she brushed past Michaela and left the room.

Sully got to his feet, unsure of how to react to Michaela's unexpected presence.

"You wanna sit down?" He gestured to the chair beside the bed, watching her closely as she entered the room and gingerly took the offered seat.

Sully continued studying her, not able to understand what had brought her down here. For the previous two days since he'd tried to talk to her, she'd not asked to see him, and now, here she was, sitting less than three feet from him. He waited for her to speak, trying to catch her eyes, but she kept shifting her gaze. Determined to let her initiate any conversation, Sully remained quiet, unable to avoid shifting his glance to the cuts and bruises in various stages of healing that covered her face and hands. Forcing himself to again try to meet her eyes, Sully caught his breath, noticing her twist her hands nervously in her lap, as if looking for the right words.

"I… wanted to apologize for the other day… I wasn't thinking clearly…." Michaela began, Sully adjusting his gaze, frustrated that she was almost deliberately refusing to look him in the eye.

"I just wanted to assure you, I know what people are saying… and I don't blame you…" Her voice was cold and dead. Sully struggled to hear the words she was speaking, taken aback by the emptiness he saw both in her eyes and in her voice.

"I'd understand even if you did…" He was about to continue, however didn't receive any indication that Michaela had processed his reply.

"Michaela? Michaela… you know I woulda done anything I could to stop…" Sully saw her move her head sharply, again ill-prepared for her response.

"I don't wish to discuss it… I just… I wanted you to know everything is fine… I don't want the children upset, thinking we're angry with one another…" Michaela collected herself, idly smoothing her skirt out in her lap, her eyes lowered.

"Well… we're not…" Sully reassured her, however failing to be able to assure himself, his conscious mind nagging at him that things were far from fine between them.

He tried desperately one last time to look her in the eyes, knowing that for her to refuse to meet his glance, she was denying him entry into her heart… her soul. Sully wanted her to talk to him, be angry with him, cry with him. He would have preferred anything to the wall of silence she had created.

"Here… let me examine you…" Michaela got to her feet, glad of the distraction, carrying out the inspection routinely, without needing to think about it.

Sully remained quiet; the only sound a slightly pained hiss when she removed the bandage.

"No sign of infection…" Michaela redressed the wound, securing the bandage once again around Sully's head, no further words being spoken between them.

Michaela looked down, unavoidably meeting his eyes for a single moment. Taking an uncomfortable breath, she knew Sully wanted her to say more, to talk about how she was really feeling. She couldn't. She wouldn't allow herself to even think about it. Seeing the sharpness of his blue eyes looking deep within her, Michaela made her way swiftly to the doorway, knowing that if she turned back, she'd no longer be running from her own feelings.

"I'll… see you later," she whispered, vanishing into the corridor almost as quickly as she had appeared.

Sully exhaled as he listened to the sound of her footsteps fading away. Letting himself fall softly to one side, to the softness of the bed underneath, Sully replayed her words over in his head. As much as he had feared her reaction, no reaction was far worse. What ever had happened out there, Michaela had decided was too painful to be able to even talk about with him. She'd been more concerned about the children's feelings than her own, Sully deciding that, if that was how she wanted to deal with this, he had no choice but to support her.

**X.O.X**

**Wednesday, 17****th**** May, 1869**

_**Two Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Well, hopefully we've seen the last of him for awhile…" Robert E. stated as the townsfolk watched the stagecoach disappear from view.

"Not a nice man…" Dorothy commented turning to head back towards the store.

"Which one? Both as bad as the other…" Hank muttered, Myra at his side, agreeing quickly.

"Well ain't that rich, coming from you?" Loren whispered under his breath, about to reach Dorothy's side when Jake came running over.

"You all gotta come see this, Dr. Mike's taking the children home… we gotta do something, the whole town's crowdin' around…" Jake received everyone's attention.

"Where's Olive? She'll get rid of everyone…" Loren chuckled, having been on the receiving end of his sister's temper on more than one occasion.

"Inside with Michaela, I think. Jake's right… we gotta move everyone along…" Dorothy picked up the hem of her skirt, quickly leading everyone down the main street and onto the Clinic porch.

"Oh, my Lord…" Grace muttered, seeing the twenty or so townspeople crowding around the street, chatting amongst themselves.

Robert E., Grace, Jake, Dorothy, Loren, Hank and Myra wasted no time in shooing the onlookers away, having just finished when they heard the door open.

"Olive, sorry about that… I had no idea all those people…" Dorothy shook her head, the brunette quickly dismissing her concern.

"Tell me about it, Matthew arrived yet?" Olive looked around for the young man.

"She really going home?" Loren queried, skeptical about the entire situation.

"Yes, Loren," Olive replied sharply, not appreciating her brother's awkwardness.

"I'll go pack some food, and tell Dr. Mike I'll come by each evening with dinner…" Grace quickly left the group, heading for the cafe.

**X.O.X**

"You sure about this, Ma?" Colleen finished making the bed, the pair making their way downstairs.

"Yes, Brian's missing Pup, and it's too difficult for Matthew to keep traveling between the homestead and the Clinic each day…" Michaela rested her arm on her daughter's shoulder.

"Just so long as you stay in bed a bit longer… don't be tryin' to do too much around the house… I'll take care of it…" Colleen instructed, as they arrived in the examination room.

"But you've got school…" Michaela frowned slightly, as Colleen looked away.

"I… can spare a few days off… besides we're not really doing anything interestin'…" Colleen attempted to distract Michaela by glancing around the room, making sure they hadn't forgotten anything.

"I thought you loved school?" Michaela reached for Colleen's arm to try and stop her moving.

"I… I do… it's just… nobody's really talkin' much about math or science at the moment," The young girl sighed, disheartened, caught between honesty and not wanting to burden her mother.

An uncomfortable silence followed, each looking between one another, Colleen pulling away, reaching for the medical bag on the edge of the examination bed, handing it to Michaela.

"Here…" She smiled, Michaela pausing before accepting the bag, running her fingers along the metal edge.

"Robert E's horse came back into town the day before we found you… Sully'd taken it when he went out lookin'…" Colleen finished quickly, pacing across the room to open the Clinic door.

Michaela nodded, looked down at the black leather object in her arms.

**X.O.X**

"There he is…" Dorothy pointed, seeing Matthew approaching with the horses and wagon.

"I think we're all makin' a big deal outa nothin'…" Loren crossed his arms turning as though to head back to the store in protest.

"We're just concerned, Loren… nothin' the matter with that." Dorothy quipped, everyone turning back around in response to the sound of a door opening behind them.

**X.O.X**

"Dr. Mike?" Olive spoke, entering the examination room from the corridor behind her.

Michaela looked up from the medical bag in her arms, noticing Sully standing tentatively by Olive's side.

"We're just about to leave, I think…" Michaela gestured towards the door Colleen had just left through.

"I know… just… before you did, I…" Sully trailed off, Olive quickly realizing her presence was not required, slipping across the room and out the door behind Colleen.

"I weren't sure… if you… wanted to see me?" Sully entered the room completely, waiting for a response, as he noticed his belt on a nearby table.

"I meant, ah, if you wanted me to help with the children… anything…" He quickly added, wrapping the belt snuggly around his waist, checking his tomahawk was still there, reaching for the other item.

"Yes. They'd… like that…" Michaela's reply was quick and to the point once again, paying more attention to the knife Sully held in his right hand.

"Fine then." He slipped the knife back into his belt, motioning for them to make their way outside.

**X.O.X**

"She and Sully are…" Olive didn't get a chance to finish her sentence, everyone noticing Michaela and Sully appear on the porch.

"All set?" Matthew cleared his throat, still not comfortable with Sully's presence.

Michaela nodded, aware of the people around her, also acutely aware of the fact that a long wagon ride home was not going to be the most physically comfortable experience.

Colleen and Brian settled themselves into the back of the wagon, Matthew lifting Michaela into the wagon, the townsfolk crowding around.

"Don't you worry, Dr. Mike, I'll handle everything 'round here…" Jake quickly informed, Michaela realizing after a moment he meant medically.

"Be sure to fetch me if you need to, but I expect I'll be back by next week…" Michaela didn't notice Matthew and Colleen exchange doubtful glares.

"And here's something for tonight, Dr. Mike… I'll send Robert E. out tomorrow with some more, too…" Grace smiled, trying not to worry, handing Michaela the basket of food.

"Grace that's really not…" Michaela merely nodded, a small smile of gratitude flashing across her face, as she passed the basket back to Colleen. "Thank-you,"

Everyone turned at the sound of a horse approaching, as Hank appeared through the crowd with the small horse trailing behind him.

"Brian… I… ah… thought you might be wantin' something…" He felt the eyes of everyone within fifty feet on him, and generosity was never something Hank felt comfortable with.

"She's mine?" The young boy squealed, jumping quickly from the wagon and taking the reins.

"Put a new saddle on there for ya an' all…" Hank gestured to the perfectly sized saddle, Brian spinning around quickly.

"Can I ride her home, can I, Ma? Please?" He had one foot in the stirrup before Michaela had a chance to respond.

"Of course you can. Just stay with us…" Michaela couldn't fight the smile breaking out across her face as she saw the pure delight in her son's eyes.

"Thanks, Hank…" Brian mounted the horse, walking her several steps towards the wagon.

"What ya gonna call her, Brian?" Colleen called out, realizing that Brian's year had just been made.

The boy began searching his pockets, quickly producing a piece of white candy, leaning forward in the saddle and offering it to the horse, the young mare taking it eagerly.

"Taffy!" He giggled heartily.

Michaela shook her head as she watched the horse devour the treat.

"She's likes candy?" Michaela enquired, in disbelief.

"Yeah…. She's got a sweet tooth!" Brian looked at Matthew for permission to start walking.

"Then she really is your horse," Michaela replied, feeling the wagon begin moving underneath her, keeping her eyes on Brian, his childlike enchantment and joy melting away the discomfort flooding through her.

"What about Sully?" Brian suddenly called out, seeing him standing on the edge of the porch.

"You just get your Ma home and settled, Brian… I'll drop around in a day or two," Sully replied, noticing the weathered look appearing on Michaela's face.

"Will do, Sully, don't you worry 'bout nothin'…" Brian waved.

Colleen looking slowly from Brian's elated grin to Matthew and then finally to Michaela. The young girl forced herself to adopt an expression of encouragement, however, couldn't shake the feeling that things were going to be downhill from here.

"You really think she's ready for this, Olive?" Dorothy whispered, as they watched the wagon depart.

"Probably not, but I ain't about to change her mind, now, am I? That woman's more stubborn than I am…" Olive shook her head, Sully joining them once the wagon was out of sight.

"Anything we can do, Sully?" Dorothy glanced over at him, concerned and supportive.

"No… I'm going off for a few days, need to talk with Cloud Dancin', need to tell him about his son…" Sully reached his hand into his pocket, as if to assure himself the beads were still there.

"What?" Loren had re-joined the group, unable to withstand the opportunity for gossip.

"His son, Walks on Cloud, was killed… by One Eye…" Sully watched Dorothy and Olive exchange horrified expressions, their conversation gradually pulling in interest from Jake, Robert E., Hank, Myra and Grace.

"Are you gonna tell them about what happened to Dr. Mike?" Myra finally spoke up, her hands rested firmly on her hips.

"I'll have to… once word gets out, they'll be in more danger…" Sully looked down towards the meadow where Custer had held the Cheyenne village a week before.

"Can't say I'd blame anyone… I mean… after what they did…" Hank idly removed his gun from its holster, ensuring it was loaded and replacing it, however with less than the suitable degree of subtlety.

"That was a dog soldier, Hank, and you know it. 'Sides… Indians don't condone mistreatin' anyone like that… he'd a been killed by them soon as they were released, had you fellas not taken care of it…" Sully kicked a stone with his right toe.

"Yeah, but they're all savages… We all heard they did the same thing to an army wife a few months back, too. Can't trust none of 'em…" Loren decided, Hank and Jake quickly voicing their agreement.

"Like Sully said, it was a renegade… you can't paint them all with the same brush…" Robert E. approached Sully, directing his conversation squarely at Hank and Jake after the previous troubles he's had with them a month earlier when he'd purchased his house.

"All I knows, I see one of 'em… he's dead…" Hank flashed a glare of utter seriousness around the crowd, unnerving each of them.

"Hank, don't be stupid… If it'd been a white man done something like this, you wouldn't try to kill all the other white men… the actions of one dog soldier don't give you the right to judge all the Cheyenne." Sully stepped backwards, frustrated with the ignorance of many of the townsmen. Preparing to leave, he unraveled the bandage from his head, Dorothy immediately helping him to untangle his hair, and trail it over the surgical site.

"Sully… you gonna be all right?" Olive realized he too had been keeping his emotions to himself these past few days.

"Be fine, won't I boy? I'll be around…" Sully patted Wolf on the head, the two striding off away from the group.

"I don't care what that man says, better not see no Injuns 'round here for a very long time… don't care what kind they are," Hank reached for Myra's arm, as they paced back towards the Saloon.

"That poor woman…." Dorothy mused, not really intending her words to be acknowledged.

"Well, we just gotta pull together… make sure those children aren't left to cope with too much on their own… Loren?" Olive replied, having been next to Dorothy, therefore hearing her quiet whisper. Olive completed her sentence, turning to stop Loren from moving.

"What!" He was spooked by the demanding tone in the way she'd said his name.

"You're close to young Brian… make sure he's got someone to talk to and all…" She instructed, the older man looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

"Aww, Olive, I'm no good at talkin' 'bout that sorta stuff…" Loren lowered his eyes in embarrassment.

"Tough, this ain't about you… Now, Dorothy, and Grace and I here'll be around for Colleen… she'll probably find it the most difficult… but Robert E., you and Matthew seem to get along all right?" Olive began, in her usual fashion, to organize everybody.

"I suppose… I'll do my best," the Blacksmith nodded, genuine in his commitment.

"Hang on, what about me?" Jake brought a hand to his chest, feeling somewhat left out.

"You're in charge of damage control, Jake. Setting the town straight, putting anyone in their place. We don't do this properly, and Dr. Mike'll end up takin' those children back to Boston with her and we'll never see 'em again…" Olive shielded her eyes from the morning sunlight.

"Oh, you don't think she'd really do that, do you?" Dorothy's heart jumped into her throat, her cheeks turning red with worry.

"All I know is, if it'd been me, I'd be gettin' outta here as soon as I could… If we wanna keep her and those children around, it's gonna take some work… on everyone's part…" She threw a look directly at Jake, aware that he and Loren had been entertaining each other with gossip these last few days.

"What you lookin' at me for, I'm the one who found her, ain't I?... All right, you've made your point." Jake rolled his eyes, departing back to his shop.

"It'll be all right, Olive… Just gotta take it one day at a time…" Dorothy nodded, as Robert E. and Grace wrapped their arms around the other's waist as they left.

"I hope so, Dorothy… I hope you're right about this…" Olive raised an eyebrow looking across at her sister-in-law, realizing it was just the two of them standing alone by this point.

Dorothy, pleased that they had a moment together, took the opportunity to voice her concerns.

"She talk to you anymore about what happened?" The red-head muttered, so as to not look suspicious to the few townspeople passing by.

"No… nothing specific… hasn't mentioned it since before Sully went up and saw her. And even then… nothin' really…" Olive frowned, realizing Michaela had only actually ever talked about the rape with Dorothy and that was a week ago.

"Not at all?" Dorothy squinted her eyes against the sun, her head turned to Olive more deliberately now.

"No… seems a little strange to me…" Olive deduced, dusting her skirt off as she crossed the short distance from the middle of the street to the Clinic porch, Dorothy following behind her.

"Well, I didn't like to pry… thought she'd talk to you… you mean it has been a week and she hasn't talked to anyone? That ain't right…" Dorothy joined Olive inside as they began tidying the place up, more as an excuse to keep talking than because it needed it.

"You're tellin' me it ain't right… This hasn't felt right from the start…" Olive glanced around the room, Dorothy remaining deep in thought.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"Whoa. Whoa…" Matthew brought the horses to a halt, Brian continuing to trot Taffy around the wagon in a circle.

"Brian, we're home… ain't nowhere more to go…" Colleen laughed, Brian reluctantly dismounting the horse and leading her towards the barn.

"Now you're going to bed for awhile..." Colleen, having slid from the back of the wagon, approached Michaela's side, as she stood up slowly.

"Matthew… ah…." Colleen waved her hand impatiently, getting his attention.

"Oh… hang on, Dr. Mike…" He quickly jumped from the wagon, reaching his hands out slightly uncertainly to lift Michaela down. Looking between the ground and Matthew's outstretched arms, Michaela realized she'd have to accept the help and, with as much dignity as possible, was lowered to the ground.

"Thank-you, Matthew…" Michaela rested her arms against the side of her skirt, taking in her surroundings.

Michaela looked around the familiar homestead slowly, as if she was seeing it all for the first time. Feeling something brush past her, she looked down to see Pup sniffing her shoe, and patted him lightly on the head, more out of habit than deliberate consideration.

"I'll... ah… help Brian get Taffy settled into the barn…" Matthew decided, directing his words to Colleen, with a subtle glance in Michaela's direction.

"Oh, right, come on, Dr. Mike…" Colleen gestured towards the homestead, making her way up the few steps and opening the door slowly.

Michaela followed behind her, struggling to keep up both physically and mentally. The wagon ride from town had been exhausting and Michaela found it difficult to concentrate on simple things without feeling distracted.

Colleen, not wanting to rush her, went on ahead, making sure Brian's toys were picked up from the floor and turned the sheets down on her mother's bed. She looked up as Michaela arrived in the doorway and stepped into the room.

"Everything's the same as it was, Dr. Mike… here… I'll make us some tea before lunch…" Colleen looked across towards the stove, feeling uncomfortable. Watching as Michaela tentatively progressed from the doorway to the bed, sitting down with a sigh and letting her head fall to the pillow.

"You wanna sleep for awhile, I can…" Colleen placed the pot of water back down on the stove, gesturing that she could make herself scarce.

"No… You carry on… I'll just rest until lunch." Michaela moved her head slightly from the pillow, trying to get comfortable.

"Ma! Ma!" Brian raced in from the back door, his voice shrill and energetic.

Michaela sat up quickly, trying not to reveal how startled she'd been by the noise.

"Brian! You can't just come in here like this… out until I say so! Now!" Colleen frowned, raising her voice to the point where the young boy began backing away towards the door.

"I… I'm sorry… I just wanted to tell Ma about Taffy," he whispered, looking down at the floor.

"It's all right, Brian… come over here…" Michaela, having had time to recover from her shock, patted the edge of the bed lightly. After a moment, Brian timidly approached.

"Now, what were you going to tell me?" She rested a hand on his shoulder as Colleen returned her attention to making the tea.

**X.O.X**

Sully called Wolf back to his side, the animal spotting the reservation in the distance.

"Wait, boy." He repeated, reaching for the beads, turning them over in his left hand repeatedly. As much as he knew he had to confront Cloud Dancing about the events that had transpired, Sully also knew unequivocally that he did not blame the Cheyenne for what had happened. Pushing the beads back deeper into his pocket, he rested his hand lightly on the Wolf's head, gesturing for him to continue his stride.

Reaching the reservation quicker than he expected, Sully scanned the crowd for his brother, spotting him talking with Black Kettle, in what appeared a heated discussion. Sully looked down at Wolf, who whined and edged his way forwards in indication that Sully should intervene.

"No, boy." Sully called, his voice enough to draw unwanted attention from several of the nearby Cheyenne.

Cloud Dancing looked over at the commotion, drawing a breath to calm down, he gestured Sully's presence to Black Kettle.

"Éhéne'enovahe…" Cloud Dancing muttered to Black Kettle, indicating that Sully would know what happened.

Sully lowered his head as Cloud Dancing approached him, interlocking arms immediately in friendship.

"My brother…" Cloud Dancing whispered, his expression one of concern.

Whilst being held in captivity by General Custer, Cloud Dancing and his village had heard of Walks on Cloud's death from the women who'd been at the dog soldier's camp. The women had been taken to the confinement in town on the Tuesday before Michaela's rescue, when the army had failed to locate either Dr. Quinn or Sully.

"Cloud Dancing… I…" Sully, not aware of this revelation, and lost for words, reached for the beads, handing them to Cloud Dancing with as much respect as he could muster.

"I, know, my brother. I learned of this many days ago…" Cloud Dancing, although having had over a week to mourn his son, was mesmerized by the colored beads laying in his outreached hand. He'd considered that his son would come to a bad fate from the moment he joined the war party, however, understood why he had needed to do so.

Sully looked confused, not understanding how he had come of this information.

"How? I…" Cloud Dancing cut him off, his voice shallow and dignified.

"The women from the dog soldier's camp were brought in by Custer last week. They told me of my son's death. It is all right, Sully, the spirits told me of a great misfortune many moons ago, I just did not think it would be this." Cloud Dancing and Sully were interrupted, when Snowbird appeared at her husband's side, taking the beads from him.

"Snowbird, I am sorry I could not have prevented this…" Sully reached forward to touch her arm lightly, their eyes meeting briefly. She nodded in understanding, looking towards Cloud Dancing before speaking.

"We heard from the army that Dr. Mike was rescued, is this true?" Snowbird, tilted her head, concerned for the Medicine Woman.

"Yes, it's true…" Sully looked sharply at Cloud Dancing, his eyes conveying that there was more that needed to be said.

Cloud Dancing, hearing the dull inflection in Sully's voice, frowned. From Sully's expression, Cloud Dancing was aware of the dark sadness staining his soul.

"The army had said she was not hurt, this is not the case." Cloud Dancing felt Snowbird step closer, instinctively knowing that her husband could read Sully deeply.

Sully looked away seeing the curious stares from various members of the tribe, recognizing several of the women from the dog soldier's camp.

"No… if the army had learned the truth you would have all been killed…" Sully informed him, seeing the look of bewilderment cross Cloud Dancing's face.

"I do not understand." Cloud Dancing spoke quickly, realization suddenly dawning on him. He had heard of the events leading to his son's death.

"One Eye… he hurt her…" Sully began, immediately being silenced by Cloud Dancing, who raised his arm in understanding.

The silence that followed was broken by Snowbird, who, as her English was more limited than that of her husband, had failed to understand, questioned what had just been disclosed. Turning to place an arm around his wife's shoulders, Cloud Dancing lowered his head, his voice strained.

"É'e'ho'eoestôhnósesto…" Sully met eyes with Cloud Dancing instantly, understanding his brother's words.

Snowbird's face fell the minute she'd heard her husband's voice, her eyes falling closed whilst they continued to talk.

"You know this places you all in more danger. You cannot leave the reservation now. My people do not understand the difference…" Sully remembered the heated discussion the townspeople had had that morning.

"I understand, but was has happened to the dog soldiers?" Cloud Dancing glanced to Snowbird, who's head was still lowered.

"Apparently they were all killed," Sully replied, not feeling capable of retelling Cloud Dancing the events in their entirety. "By the townsmen."

"Come…" Cloud Dancing gestured for Sully to join Black Kettle and a few other Elders sitting around a fire.

Sully, appreciative of the distraction, followed, taking a seat by Black Kettle as Cloud Dancing informed him of the developments. Sully, his eyes drawn to the dancing flames of the fire in front of him, listened to their words, his mind trying to comprehend the turmoil he found himself in.

**X.O.X**

"That was a real good supper, Colleen…" Matthew placed his fork down on the plate, having finished his dessert.

"Thanks. Brian, you want another piece of pie?" Colleen reached forwards to offer him the slice of freshly baked strawberry pie.

"Nah… Matthew can have it…" The young boy smiled at his older brother, Matthew's eyes lighting up playfully as Colleen placed the food on his plate.

Michaela clasped her hands on the table in front of her, pushing her dinner plate away with a smile.

"Dr. Mike, you sure you don't want some?" Matthew gestured with his fork to the piece of strawberry pie on his plate.

"I'm sure, thank-you Matthew…" She sighed, gazing from each of the children down to the fireplace, watching the flames flicker backwards and forwards as the wood crackled softly.

The children continued giggling as Matthew teased them, slowly devouring each mouthful of pie, deliberately over-exaggerating the amount of satisfaction he was deriving from the taste.

"Aw, no fair, Ma… he's playing with his food… Ma…" Brian turned away pretending to sulk as Matthew cut into the pastry, each time a little smaller so as to draw out the regret Brian was feeling at giving up the last piece.

"Ma… make him stop…" Brian whined, leaning over to pull on her sleeve, Colleen opening her mouth to reprimand him, however it was too late.

Michaela, still captivated by the fire on her left, didn't react until she felt the tugging on her right upper arm, immediately turning and pulling her arms away, with such force that the blue and white china teacup in front of her was knocked across the table, everyone freezing at the noise created as it smashed upon impact with the wooden floorboards.

"Brian!" Colleen chastised instinctively, her eyebrows lowered in anger and she looked to Matthew for support.

"I… I'm sorry… I didn't mean…" The boy's chin quivered, more in shock from Michaela's violent reaction than from the broken china.

"Here, I'll get it…" Matthew stood, quickly beginning to carefully collect the assorted pieces of crockery from the floor.

Michaela, not aware of Brian's tugging on her arm until after the cup had hit the floor, had remained still, allowing her mind to take in the sequence of events rationally. She'd had no recollection of overreacting until after the china had smashed, and took several moments to convince herself that the automatic anxiety-provoked defensiveness was not required, her breathing gradually slowing.

The room fell quiet as Matthew finished gathering the rest of the broken pieces, Brian delicately sliding from his chair, to approach Michaela.

"Ma? I'm real sorry I scared ya…" Brian's voice was hushed as he reached his mother's right side, his head tilted in nervous confusion.

"It's not your fault, sweetheart…" Michaela reached to wrap her arm around his back, pulling him closer to her in an obligatory embrace.

Matthew and Colleen exchanged worried glances, deciding someone was definitely going to have to talk with Brian about boundaries.

"I'll take that…" Colleen reached for the broken pieces of china, wrapping them in a cloth, turning to her younger brother.

"Brian, come help me get some water for the dishes…" She met Matthew's eyes once again, as she indicated in Brian's direction briefly.

"Do I have to?" He reluctantly pulled away from Michaela's embrace, trudging behind Colleen waiting until they were alone before continuing to complain.

"Colleen, why'd you get me out here… you never need help with…" Colleen grasped his shoulder, fingers pressed against her lips, gesturing for him to be quiet.

The pair headed into the barn, Brian immediately remembering his newly-gained horse, jogging over to her to rub her nose.

"Brian, just wait a minute, we need to have a talk first…" Colleen rolled her eyes, herself tired from all the physical and emotional demands placed on her over the previous week.

Looking up, hearing the raggedness in his sister's voice, Brian brought his hand back to his side, taking a seat next to her on a pile of hay.

"You still mad at me for before?" He sulked, dropping his head.

"No… I'm not mad at you, Brian. I didn't mean to sound as if I was… it's just… I was worried…" Colleen sighed, rearranging her skirt over her knees and lower legs.

"About Ma?" He whispered, looking up at her with concern.

"Yeah… and you… all of us… Brian, Matthew told you about what happened to Dr. Mike, didn't he?" Colleen asked tentatively, hoping her brother had covered the sensitive topic.

"No, Miss Dorothy did… but Matthew talked about it too…" Brian frowned in concentration, preparing for another 'talk' he knew was coming his way.

"Well, we just gotta be more careful 'round Ma... for… awhile…" Colleen, about to put a time length on the end of her sentence, trailed off, for she honestly had no way of knowing how long it was going to take for Dr. Mike to return to normal, if she ever truly would.

Brian, defensive by this point, huffed, feeling as though he was getting different rules from everyone, and always being told off.

"But Ma said I could hug her… Everyone's always yellin' at me, telling me not to go near her…" Brian breathed heavily, wiping a hand across his face to catch the tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh, Brian, that's not what I meant… I meant… just be, well… sensitive around her…" Colleen struggled for an analogy the ten-year-old could grasp. "You remember when you were little and you used to be scared with the lightening and thunder sometimes?" She reached to hold his right hand, squeezing it tightly as he nodded, calming down.

"Now we all knew that nothing bad was gonna happen and that the thunder and lightening couldn't hurt you… but _you_ didn't… It's sorta like that for Dr. Mike. She was out there, cold, alone, in the dark all those nights, Brian. She was probably real scared. It's like… last year when you were climbing the tree and fell and hit your head..." Colleen drew a breath, Brian quickly interrupting with enthusiasm:

"And Ma saved me…" Colleen nodded to continue her explanation.

"She did… but I haven't seen you climb a tree since…" She raised an eyebrow, hoping her younger brother's intelligence would allow him to latch onto the comparison she was trying to make.

"No… I… don't really wanna… Even when Steven and Lewis climb the kissin' tree sometimes, makes me nervous…" Brian wrapped his arms around his chest, the image flashing through his mind.

"Exactly. So can you understand how it's the same for Dr. Mike? I mean, we know you were only kiddin' when you pulled on her arm, but if that reminded her of something that happened when she was kidnapped, well, that'd be scary, wouldn't it?" Colleen swallowed, finding herself speculating on what trauma Michaela had been subjected to.

"Yeah… I'll make sure she knows it's me 'fore I touch her or anythin'…" Brian looked across at his sister, leaning against her for approval.

Colleen's face melted when she felt the boy against her left side, shaking her head with a smile as she turned to tickle him affectionately.

"Come on, let's go inside…" Colleen pulled Brian carefully to his feet, brushing off the straw on his back and legs.

"Do you think if I ask her real nicely, Ma'll read me a bedtime story?" Brian chewed his lower lip, Colleen brushing the hay from her skirt, looking to him with a smile at his childlike attention span.

"Maybe… wait until we're going to bed, then ask… but she might be real tired, Brian…" Colleen tried to prepared Brian for the possible rejection.

"Oh…" He murmured, as they made their way from the barn, Colleen closing the door softly.

"But if she doesn't, I'll read ya one…" She ruffled the boy's hair, as they approached the back door, Brian suddenly gripping her wrist.

"Colleen… shouldn't we get the water?" He waited, Colleen turning quickly with a light chuckle.

"See, you _are_ smarter than me…" The two siblings continued picking excess straw from each other as they made their way contently back to the water pump, hoping no-one would comment on the time it had taken them to draw two buckets of water.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**X.O.X**

**Thursday, 18****th**** May, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Brian, you dressed yet?" Colleen placed the bowl of scrambled eggs down in the center of the table next to the plate of bacon, looking towards the drawn curtain that partitioned off their sleeping area.

"No," Brian replied gruffly, Colleen frustrated as she took her seat opposite Matthew, sliding the chair noisily across the floorboards.

"Well, hurry up, or you're gonna be late for school…" Colleen glanced briefly in her older brother's direction, dropping a spoonful of eggs onto her plate unenthusiastically.

Michaela, still in her nightdress and dressing gown, sipped on the cup of tea in front of her, frowning momentarily.

"It's not like Brian to be slow getting ready…" She commented, grasping the fork in her left hand and tentatively picking at the bacon on her plate.

Colleen shrugged, the exhaustion and annoyance beginning to show across her face.

The three continued eating for several minutes, Matthew finishing first and placing the knife and fork down gently on the edge of his plate.

"Hey Brian, come on… Taffy's all ready…" Matthew hollered, trying not to sound overly impatient. Olive had given him the rest of the week off work, since she was staying in town anyway, and he'd planned to spend the day with Ingrid on a picnic.

"All right, I'm ready…" came the eventual reply, Brian pushing the curtain aside and stomping across the room, his shirt not buttoned and suspenders hanging from his waist.

"Here, I saved you some breakfast…" Colleen forced a smile, gesturing to the plate beside her.

"Brian, since when did you forget how to dress yourself?" Matthew stood, pushed his chair back and approached the boy, quickly finishing preparing him for the day.

"Do I have to go to school?" Brian queried, looking from Colleen to Michaela.

"Why, don't you feel well?" Michaela appeared swiftly by Matthew's side, bending down to check Brian's forehead and glands.

Brian shrugged slowly, only one shoulder moving, as he opened his mouth, allowing Michaela to look at his mouth and throat.

"Well, you don't have a fever, or swollen glands, and your throat looks fine, too…" Michaela trailed off, noticing the look of desperation sweep over Brian's face.

"Come on, Brian… you're gonna be late…" Matthew rested a hand on his shoulder, pushing him lightly towards his place at the table. The young boy sat gingerly, head hung as he pushed the food into his mouth mechanically.

**X.O.X**

"Word's spreading, Jake… why I had three men askin' me about it yesterday, and they'd ridden in from Soda Springs…" Loren shook his head, turning another page in the newspaper, sitting comfortably on the bench.

"What you telling me for? Can't help people talking… not if what they're saying's true…" Jake began wiping the excess soap from his customer's chin and neck, pushing the chair into an upright position.

"That's it, Mr. Howlser." He patted the man's shoulder, waiting for payment.

"Morning, Jake, gentlemen…" the Reverend smiled, looking around the barber shop, nodding to Hank and Loren as he sat down on the long bench.

"Thanks… Oh… morning, Reverend." Jake took the money with a very brief smile, motioning for Hank to take his seat.

"Just a shave, Jake… you leave my tresses alone…" Hank sneaked a teasing look at the barber, knowing how badly he'd longed for the opportunity to give Hank a decent haircut.

"Wouldn't touch them, Goldie Locks…" Jake chuckled, reaching for the bowl of lathered soap.

"Yeah… well from what these guys were saying, people are talkin' as far as Soda Springs… and with that reporter leaving yesterday, won't be long 'til word reaches Denver…" Loren proudly informed the group, unable to resist the opportunity for enlightening conversation, especially when he was the one doing all the enlightening!

"Oh, that's awful…" the Reverend shook his head, resting his left arm on the back of the bench.

"Don't see what's so awful about it… could be good for business…" Hank tipped his head, narrowly avoiding the razor blade.

"Oh, Hank… don't be so selfish… how on earth can you say that!" Timothy defended, glancing at Loren who too had considered the financial advantage.

"Nothin' selfish about it… Michaela's gonna make a fortune, people'll be cueing up with bogus medical complaints just to meet her!" Hank chuckled, Timothy standing in disgust.

"I can't believe you all, your just as bad as the children… this is serious. Real serious. And you're all acting like it's some trivial piece of entertainment!" the Reverend rarely raised his voice, however felt the occasion warranted it.

"Aww, now don't get all fired up, Reverend. 'Course we know it's serious… But sure makes you wonder what happened out there… I mean… Dr. Mike don't seem like the type a women who'd… well… just let that happen…" Loren lowered his voice, the reality of what they had been all joking about seconds before sinking in.

"Yeah, bet she put up one hell of a fight… woulda givin' anything to see that… and um… help, of course," Hank retorted, quickly receiving disapproving looks and therefore ending his sentence more appropriately.

"Don't be stupid, Hank, from the reports I got from the army, 'bout that other woman, if she'd a fought… she'd be dead… they killed the army captain's wife in the end…" Jake gripped the razor tighter in his right hand, bringing the blade to Hank's neck and resting it against his throat symbolically, all eyes drawn to the metal object, attention drifting only when Jake began the first shaving movement upwards.

"You… ah… said it, Jake," Loren finally replied, momentarily startled by the visual demonstration he'd just witnessed.

"No way Michaela didn't fight… that woman'd argue with a deaf horse if she thought she could change it's mind… Nah… she wouldn't a givin' herself up lightly, that's for sure." Hank couldn't wipe the fascinated smile off his face, as he leaned back further in the chair; he really would have enjoyed being a fly on the wall for that one.

"Well, obviously she didn't… not from what we saw… blood everywhere… and she was tied up so it's not like she woulda made it easy…" Jake continued scraping the razor across Hank's rough skin, images from the dog soldier's camp invading his consciousness.

"Aw, bound too… I really did miss out on all the fun, didn't I…" Hank sighed, depressed that he'd refused to help out with the rescue mission.

"None of you have any decency! I hope to see each one of you Sunday mornin' praying for forgiveness after this little display. Remember, gentlemen: idle gossip is the devil's work…" Timothy rose to his feet, looking between each of them with disgust before leaving.

Hank interlocked his fingers with satisfaction.

"Now that the preacher's gone… Jake… do continue…" Hank turned his head to smile up at the barber.

"There, you're done." Jake, not enjoying Hanks' persistence, pushed the chair forwards once again, extending his hand for payment.

"Bunch a wimps, the lota ya!" Hank chuckled, before handing Jake the money and sauntering from the shop.

"That man… we were just talkin'… and he had to go too far…" Loren folded his newspaper neatly beside him.

"Yeah… not something I like havin' to remember… he weren't there… it ain't the same…" Jake wiped the razor carefully, before immersing it in alcohol to sterilize it as he had been instructed.

"Maybe Sully's got a point… maybe we shouldn't just talk like we were…" Loren lowered his head, shame creeping into his heart.

"Yeah… 'sides details ain't important… we know what happened…" Jake reached the same conclusion Loren had, his gaze drifting into the white bowl where the razor blade lay soaking.

"Exactly." Loren affirmed, moving into the red velvet chair in front of Jake, preparing for a shave and haircut.

Jake nodded slowly, reaching for a comb and scissors to begin working on Loren's hair.

**X.O.X**

The Reverend swallowed, forcing a cheerful expression as he made his way through the door into the classroom, the children seated and engaged in chatter, quickly looked up with mixed expressions.

"I apologize for my tardiness children, I trust no-one was overly upset…" Timothy smiled at the responding denial, glancing over the faces of his class, noticing only one absence.

"Now, if you'll remember we're due for our weekly spelling bee, however, given that we've not had any time to practice, I thought we'd postpone it until next Thursday," the Reverend waited for the anticipated approval, "so I'll give you your words to study this week…" He began writing the list of twenty words on the blackboard, the children copying them down conscientiously.

"Once you've finished that, children, I thought we'd recommence our conversation of Monday, regarding our play for the town. Having thought about some of people's suggestions yesterday, I think we should all write the play together, as a class, then we can pick people for the different roles, and start rehearsing." Timothy saw Alice's hand shoot up instantly. He nodded to her.

"Well, Reverend, like I asked Monday, we're gonna do this properly, aren't we. With costumes and sets and a stage, right?" The obnoxious girl in the front row raised her head slightly, conveying the seriousness of her question.

"We'll do out best, Alice… but all those things are going to cost a lot of money… and we just don't…" Lewis, in the back row, cut the Reverend off quickly.

"We could do something to raise money, Reverend… Like sell things… or make things…" The young boy's eagerness trailed off, where would they get money to buy the things to sell.

Brian remained quiet throughout the conversation, his head rested in his right hand, tracing out patterns on the desk with his finger. Although usually interested in anything that was going on at school, Brian was unable to distract himself from the reality that he didn't want to be here. He wanted to be home.

"What about an auction, Reverend? Maybe Miss Olive would let us auction dances at the hurdy-gurdy?" Becky, sitting by herself offered, trying to participate, however worried about her best friend.

"Maybe, Becky… but then who would the dances be with?" Timothy continued, more fascinated by the problem solving abilities his class were showing that the actual content of their suggestions.

"Well... um…" Becky paused, her eyes drifting down towards her desk in defeat.

"What about the townswomen… I know my Ma'd do it… If it meant we could do the play." Missy, sitting next to Alice quickly announced, everyone pausing as they realized her idea actually had some potential.

"Missy… I… well, what does everyone else think?" Timothy rested against his desk in the front of the room, his right hand scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"Sure, my Ma'd do it too… and the more people we get to auction off, the more money we'll make… and the better the play'll be…" Steven moved in his chair, suddenly enthusiastic about the idea. He poked Brian lightly in the ribs, getting his friend's attention, the pair absorbing themselves in discussion, Steven managing to perk Brian up somewhat.

"I bet we could get lots of women… I reckon Miss Dorothy might if we asked her real nice… and Miss Olive… and the men who ain't dancin' can do the music…." Alice smiled, squeezing Becky's hand in anticipation.

"I could ask my sister, Reverend. She's seventeen… I'm sure she'd go along with it…" Charles, a young blond-haired boy sitting behind Brian, contributed.

"My Ma, too, Reverend…" Stacey, a shy eight-year old girl sitting in the back row eventually called out.

"And mine, too…." Brian turned in his chair facing the aisle, an involved grin sweeping across his face.

The Reverend raised an eyebrow in response to the young boy's voice. Timothy had been concerned about Brian's reserved behavior this morning, although with everything he'd been through, the Reverend did not consider this unexpected.

"This is great, children…" Timothy began to propose that they end the discussion for the time being, however was cut-off mid sentence.

"Your Ma can't do it, Brian… no-one'd bid for her…" Cal objected strongly, leaning forward in his seat to make his point, the entire class ceasing their conversation.

"Yeah, we're tryin' to _raise _money, Cooper, have to _pay _someone to touch your Ma…" Benjamin sneered from the back row, the older children gasping simultaneously, the younger children merely observing, not fully understanding what was going on.

Brian scowled at the two boys sitting together in the back row, feeling everyone's eyes on him, waiting for a response.

"That ain't true, Benjamin. She's the prettiest lady in town and she's the best dancer. I bet she'd get heaps more than your fat, old mother, any day!" Brian crossed his arms against his chest, not being able to totally interpret Benjamin's words himself, however jumping immediately to his mother's defense.

"Maybe, could go either way… but if we're gonna have an _Indian_ whore in the auction… why not all the whores… Lewis, ask Myra if she'll do it too…" Benjamin turned his attention to Lewis on his right side, failing to notice Brian move from his seat.

The Reverend, still perched on the corner of his desk, stood up quickly to cease the conversation, not moving fast enough to stop Brian from darting from his seat to Benjamin's, grabbing him by the front of the shirt.

"You take that back! She ain't a whore!" Brian locked eyes with his tormentor, towering over Benjamin's desk.

Timothy, having managed to reach Brian's side, gently pulled him by the shoulder.

"Brian… hey… go sit outside for a moment… just calm down a bit?" The Reverend patted his arm softly, still in shock from Brian's aggressive outburst.

The young boy slowly unclenched his fingers from Benjamin's shirt, glancing from the Reverend to Steven, before dropping his head and moving to the back of the room, slipping out through the door. Timothy's eyes didn't leave Brian until he was out of sight, before turning back to face the stunned class, hands going to his hips as he paced back along the aisle to the front of the room, preparing for what was going to be, a very serious talk.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Sully stirred from his sleeping position, hearing a commotion going on outside. Reaching instinctively for his tomahawk laying several feet from him across the tepee, he pushed the blankets aside, crouching down as he made his way to the door, to peek cautiously through the tent flap. Seeing Cloud Dancing, Black Kettle and several other villagers engaged in a heated discussion with a group of women.

Fastening his belt around his waist, however, no longer being alarmed by the noise, Sully pushed the tent flap away, stepping out into the morning sunlight.

"What's going on?" He called, approaching Cloud Dancing, and looked between him and the dozen or so women preparing horses nearby.

"The wives of the dog soldiers want to return to their camp… to prepare for their move." Cloud Dancing glanced back at Sully, whilst trying to contain the women's loud voices and movements.

"Nóxa'e! Néstôxétse, vé'hahtsé máto!" Cloud Dancing raised his arms as he spoke, the women ceasing their noise and listening to him. Hearing his words, they dismounted their horses, calming down.

"Move?" Sully turned his head, slipping his tomahawk back into his belt.

"Yes. Now that the dog soldiers are dead, their women must live with us, here. I told them that we will go together, to their camp." Cloud Dancing spoke, his voice matter-of-fact.

"Why are you doing this?" Sully shook his head, his emotions still raw.

"Because, they are still my people. It is my responsibility to see that all my tribe is cared for, even those who abandon our ways. The wives and children cannot stay at their camp alone, and the bodies of the dog soldiers must be laid to rest." Black Kettle whispered to Cloud Dancing quietly, Sully frowning, still on edge from the events of the previous week.

"When do we leave?" Sully pushed his hair back from his face, noticing Wolf appearing by his side protectively.

"You will stay here, my brother. With Snowbird. Your heart is still wounded, you do not need more pain…" Cloud Dancing rested his hand on Sully's chest, looking him directly in the eye for several moments.

"My heart will always be wounded… but I… I need to come with you… I won't believe they're dead until I can see it with my own eyes." Sully's bright blue eyes locked with Cloud Dancing's once again, his Indian brother knowing that Sully's mind was made up.

"We will leave shortly… it will take several hours to get there, and most of the day to dispose of the bodies. We will make camp there tonight, return in the morning." Cloud Dancing had begun to inform Sully, however turning as he spoke to address the rest of the villagers and Black Kettle.

Sully remained perfectly still, watching as people began moving quickly around him, preparing horses and supplies for the long trek. Seeing Snowbird nearby, her arms wrapped around her chest, he approached her, seeing the worry across her face.

"Snowbird… I am sorry…" Sully was about to reach out to comfort her, however she quickly raised her head, dismissing his remarks.

"No… it is I who must apologize. It is my people who have done this… I feel responsible." Snowbird drew a breath, Sully noticing the tears forming in the rims of her eyes.

"No, you have lost your son. He played no part in this…" Sully reassured the saddened woman, the pair slowly moving across the camp site, sitting down in front of a low fire.

"But he did. He told the dog soldiers that Dr. Mike had gone to the army… told them of the soldier's killings. It was his fault that she was taken." Snowbird bowed her head, wondering if her friendship with Dr. Mike would ever be the same, having no-way of knowing if she would even see her again.

"He tried to stop this from happening, Dr. Mike told me. He died trying to save her… It was not his fault, Snowbird. You raised a son with a good heart, don't doubt that. It's just, with all the troubles, and confusion… I don't blame him for wanting to fight the army…" Sully tried to comfort her, his voice soft and evenly-paced. Sully reflected on his words, realizing that truthfully he did not blame the Cheyenne. Whilst Michaela's abduction had served a political purpose, her attack was at the hands of an individual; Indian or white, it did not matter.

**X.O.X**

Colleen stacked the last of the breakfast dishes on the shelf against the wall, removing her apron and laying it over the back of a chair.

"You should have let me help you with those, Colleen…" Michaela looked up from her assortment of medical journals scattered around her on the bed.

The young girl turned around, clasping her hands in her lap with a tired sigh.

"It's fine, Ma, really… I said I'd help around here for awhile, and I will." Colleen blinked her eyes slowly, pulling out a chair and dropping onto it, with a yawn.

"But you must be exhausted, you've been getting up before me all this week, doing everything… it's too much." Michaela closed the journal she'd just finished, eyes meeting Colleen's sympathetically.

"I can manage, Ma, really… you just mind what Dr. Cassidy said… I don't want you overdoing it." Colleen looked around the room, surprised when she didn't notice any chores crying out to be done.

"Well, I'll take it easy today… but tomorrow, you'll be able to head back to school…" Michaela collated the dozen or so thin booklets into a pile, expecting Colleen to challenge her. When there was no verbal reply, Michaela looked up to see Colleen's eyes lightly closed, her head balanced in her hands on the back of the chair.

Shaking her head with a smile, Michaela slid from the bed, crossing the room to drape her arms around Colleen's shoulders.

"Colleen… come on… go to bed, just for a nap." Michaela soothed, encouraging the girl to her feet, and guiding her towards her cot.

"Brian… birthday…" Colleen mumbled, not managing to keep herself awake any longer, Michaela pulling the pastel-colored blanket over her lower body, stroking her blond hair as it trailed down her back.

"You rest, Colleen…ssh…" Michaela smiled, the girl falling into slumber within seconds.

Drawing the curtain across the children's sleeping area, Michaela looked thoughtfully between the kitchen area and the curtain, an idea quickly manifesting itself in her head. Pulling her dressing gown from her body and laying it across the bed, she went to the chest of drawers to decide on an outfit for the day.

**X.O.X**

"This really is lovely place for picnic, Matthew, but I not feel right… Is not right to be so happy with all bad things that happen…" Ingrid watched as Matthew unfolded the picnic blanket, smoothing it out before gesturing for her to take a seat, as he reached for the basket of lunch.

"I know, Ingrid, but it ain't like that. I mean, us being here, enjoying today doesn't mean we can't still feel bad about Dr. Mike… she always says, 'people don't stop living just because something bad happens' and she's right… Here, I brought some of your favorites…" Matthew smiled, opening the basket, Ingrid taking several moments to interpret his words.

"Dr. Mike say this?" Ingrid frowned, although feeling less ashamed.

"Yup… says it all the time. That you gotta get on with life… that it's too precious to throw away… 'sides… I wanted to have a chance to talk with you… without everyone around." Matthew set the plates in front of them, Ingrid helping to dish out the food.

"About what you want to talk?" The young girl turned to her betrothed, for Matthew seldom was serious about life. She took his tone in this instance, to therefore, mean a great deal. She watched him idly placing the coleslaw and potato salad onto their plates, whilst grappling with the discomfort he appeared to be feeling.

"About… about how life can suddenly turn on you… about how… you think you've got everything just sorted… and now, I don't know… I feel like I don't know where I stand…" Matthew paused, aware that Ingrid was having difficult understanding his nuisances, "I feel uncomfortable, at home… Like I don't want to say anything because I'm scared I'll say something wrong." Matthew stopped preparing lunch, instead resting his hands either side of him against the soft blanket.

Ingrid tilted her head thoughtfully, considering her response.

"Because she is not your mother, as for Colleen and Brian…" Ingrid phrased eloquently, her smooth voice consoling him.

"Yes. And because… I, I feel like I let this happen… The other week, Dr. Mike didn't want to go into town… wanted us to all stay around the homestead, but I said it was safe. I said it'd be ok… and it weren't…" Matthew lowered his head, finally uncovering the source of the underlying guilt he had been feeling these past few weeks.

"Is not your fault, Matthew. Is nobody's fault…" Ingrid reached for his right hand, taking it between her two palms, running her fingertips along his flesh, not seductively, but as if trying to soothe someone in pain.

"Sully didn't stop this neither… he was too busy thinkin' 'bout himself." Matthew clenched his hand against Ingrid's fingers, the anger refueling his body once again.

"That not like Sully… he a good man… he do anything to protect Dr. Mike. Why you think he to blame?" Ingrid frowned, trying determinedly to calm Matthew down.

"Because… when the dog soldiers took her, we were going to go with him to help find her… he wouldn't let us. Maybe we, we coulda stopped this." Matthew narrowed his eyebrows, enjoying the emotional release that directing his anger at Sully brought.

"You not know this, Matthew. I sure Sully did best he could… It no-one's fault, like I say…" Ingrid looked away, able to empathize with Matthew's anger, however not being able to offer any solution.

"You're right… just gotta put it behind us all… move on…" Matthew handed them both cutlery, Ingrid beginning her lunch eagerly.

**X.O.X**

Sully reached for his canteen, taking several mouthfuls of water, as the horse continued along the uneven ground. Slinging the round container back over his shoulder, he squinted, eventually making out the tepees in the distance. Pushing the horse into a gentle trot, Wolf by his side, Sully made his way to the front of the group, joining Cloud Dancing as the camp in the distance became clearer. Unable to reason with the knots in his stomach, Sully continued, refusing to give into the powerful emotions sweeping over him. A chilling wind swept through his long hair as he pressed on, closing in on the deserted camp. Sully slowed his pace, seeing the first dog soldier lay flat against the dusty ground, his body decayed from exposure to the elements. Sully met eyes with Cloud Dancing, who, although dismayed at the carnage of his own people, recognized that the fate of a dog soldier was usually death.

Sully, Cloud Dancing, Black Kettle, male villagers as well as the wives, and relations of the dog soldiers waited until they'd all arrived in the middle of the camp, before dismounting and beginning the grueling task of laying the bodies to rest in accordance with Cheyenne custom. Circling around the group of horses, Sully saw the ten or so bodies strewn in the open space, angled so it appeared they'd been sitting around three small fires, all now burnt-out. Water bags, fishing rods and other hunting tools lay between the bodies, one dog soldier positioned laying only several feet from his rifle, his right arm outstretched towards it in vain.

It was at that moment that the noise began; crying, wailing, as the women identified their husband's and father's remains. Sully felt divided between two peoples again at that moment, for he was torn by ambivalence between sorrow for the displays of grief he was witnessing, and spite, knowing that they had been suitably avenged for Michaela's suffering.

Sully was aware of his teeth clenching firmly in his jaw, as he came to the realization that there was one particular body he had not yet identified. Drawing a strained breath, he immersed himself in the sea of howling Cheyenne to begin his search. Wolf continued at his side, moving between each body, as if to search for any signs of life. As much as Sully did not want to be confronted by the body of he who had committed such an atrocity, Sully also knew his mind would not rest until he could see him – dead – with his own eyes.

He stopped moving after several minutes, having noticed one body slumped on its side, receiving no attention from the Cheyenne women and children, who were still mourning other deaths. Sully knew without needing to see his face that it was One Eye. He stepped closer, his mouth drawn tightly into a small frown, his eyes running slowly over the discarded corpse. Sully moved his right foot forwards, to the side of One Eye's head, his attention pulled instantly away as a distant screaming could be heard.

Stepping back, to turn and identify the source of the noise, Sully shielded his eyes with his right hand, seeing an older Cheyenne woman, the one who had given him Walks on Cloud's beads many days earlier, appear from within a tepee. She approached Cloud Dancing's side in obvious distress, the two engaging in a fiery exchange. Sully noticed the woman's hand gestures, however not paying much attention until he saw Cloud Dancing, who was unaware he was witnessing the display, turn and look directly at him.

Locking eyes unintentionally with his brother, Cloud Dancing was the one to break the glance, touching the older woman's arm compassionately. Sully, aware of the deliberateness of Cloud Dancing's glance, strode purposefully across the camp, arriving at his side.

"What was all that about?" Sully phrased, expecting Cloud Dancing to inform him quickly and then change the subject. He did not expect the uncomfortable frown that crossed Cloud Dancing's face, or the brushed-off response he received.

"It is nothing," Cloud Dancing replied curtly, busying himself with collecting assorted tools from the ground nearby.

Sully looked between the elderly woman, who had now immersed herself with another group of women, talking earnestly, and his brother who seemed unusually distracted. Sully moved his head to the side slightly, perturbed by the contrasted reactions.

"Cloud Dancing?" He reached for his brother's shoulder, Cloud Dancing instantaneously pulling away from the contact, meeting Sully's eyes once again, this time cold and stern.

"I said it is nothing," he whispered, his voice low, but resolute.

Sully, turning his head and swiping the air with his right hand in frustration, left Cloud Dancing's side, moving the fifty feet or so towards the tepee the woman had departed from. Wolf moved briskly ahead, his nose suddenly drawn to the ground, picking up a scent. Sully, about to follow the animal, when Cloud Dancing caught his left arm firmly, was stopped, turning to his brother.

"No, my brother, please…" Cloud Dancing forced his choked voice to be heard, being distracted enough by Wolf's encouraging whimper that Sully was able to pull away, his hand resting on the tepee flap, pulling it open as the animal entered first, his paws treading delicately over the soft dirt, nose locked to the ground in fixated tracking.

Sully struggled at first to see, his eyes gradually adjusting to the darkened enclosure, stepping into the tepee completely as Cloud Dancing entered behind him. At first not comprehending exactly what he was observing, Sully bent down in response to Wolf's resolute whines.

It was then he saw the animal was pawing, scratching at something only several feet away. Sully struggled to make the item out; however the laced edges sent unequivocal comprehension running through his being, his eyes focusing on the cream-colored garment, his breath held as images began forcing their way into his head.

_He clawed at the waistband of her bloomers, his rough fingers scratching the soft flesh of her stomach as she felt her body tense, longing to struggle against the inevitable outcome. Turning her head, her eyes held tightly closed, she felt the garment pulled from her, the soft fabric leaving her lower limbs, ankles and feet before being discarded across the confined space, his attention drawn back to her vulnerable body beside him._

Sully felt himself falling forwards onto his knees as the vision played out in his conscious mind, his hand tightening around the delicate material as Wolf pulled away to cross the room.

"Please… do not do this to yourself, it is best we leave." Cloud Dancing brought a hand to Sully's shoulder, his fingers soft against his brother's tensed muscles, drawing the white man from his tortured suffering.

"No. I have to know…" Sully murmured, his voice barely audible as Cloud Dancing retreated to the opening of the tepee, watching as the Wolf drew Sully's attention to the pile of blankets in the far right corner, his whimpering returning.

Moving, still on his knees, to cross the short distance, Sully felt his hand touch the animal's soft coat, Wolf quickly moving away as Sully became aware of the softness of the blankets, gently moving one in his shaking hand.

_She spotted the pile of blankets across the tepee, again pulling away from his grasp as she began to fully take-in her fate. Pleading through tears for mercy, she received no response, her body falling to the ground below, sensing the softness of the blankets underneath her._

Cloud Dancing continued to watch helplessly as Sully endured the revelation each item brought upon him. Sully's face paled, unconsciously emitting a low gasp as he pulled the top blanket away, his eyes locking onto the pool of dried blood soaked into the blankets below.

_Opening her eyes after she was sure she was alone, she moved slowly, uncomfortably, eventually managing to pull herself into a sitting position, aware of warmth on her thighs. Pulling the blanket from her naked body, she saw the crimson substance running down her legs. The reality of what she had just lived through hit her like a bullet between the eyes, her greatest loss seeping away with the blood collecting underneath her._

Sully, his mind and body entranced in reliving Michaela's ordeal, felt his hands run over a small item, looking down, his eyes focused on the rawhide cord he now clutched in his hand, lids falling closed as the visualization again took over.

_Feeling the pain wash over her, she fought desperately against the rawhide. It was now tight against her wrists, cutting into her tender flesh as the knife had her throat. She could not move, his weight pressed down against her small frame, her torso pinned to the ground. Flailing her arms desperately, primitive survival consuming her rational thought, she sensed his hand on her wrist, forcing her arms against the ground above her head, rendering her utterly paralyzed._

Sully dropped the rawhide at his side, numb by this stage. Wolf's soft cry drew his attention to one final remnant, a small white strip of cream-colored lace. Looking closely, Sully pulled gently at the strands of long auburn hair entwined around the material. Frowning, Sully could not determine what it was, hallucination sweeping upon him once again.

_His left hand was firmly pressed against her right shoulder, his fingertips dug deeply into her soft flesh, tugging angrily at the chemise strap. She could feel her hair being pulled, caught between her shoulder and his overpowering grasp. His right hand gripped the knife, moving it closer against her throat, his fury at her non-compliance tempting him to do away with her instead. Noticing the look of unparalleled fear on her face, he saw her eyes widen in horror, an expression he'd only seen on her once; a week ago. She felt the blade of the knife leave her throat to arrive against her chest, cutting through the thin material of her chemise in one invasive movement. Feeling the night air hit her exposed flesh, she gasped, preparing to resist, however her eyes were drawn to the sharp blade of the knife above her, the metallic edge glistening against the moonlight streaming through the small opening in the tent flat._

Sully was exhausted, his body crying for breath, his energy lost in emotional intensity. Letting the chemise strap slip from his fingers, Sully got uneasily to his feet, and slowly began to orientate himself one again. Noticing the Wolf move across the room to Cloud Dancing's side, Sully lifted his head, his eyes still far away, not recognizing his friend.

Cloud Dancing remained motionless, having witnessed his friend's response to the physical torture he had just experienced. About to take a step towards him, Cloud Dancing paused, aware of Sully slowly rising to his feet. His gaze was still lowered, the tips of his shoes barely touching the blankets in front of him.

"Nésema'háahe…" Cloud Dancing whispered, the single word of 'friend' an attempt to ground Sully in reality. The Cheyenne elder waited, knowing Sully would eventually turn to him. He did not expect the rapid chain of events that followed.

Sully, blinking his eyes slowly in response to his brother's voice, felt the ground underneath him for the first time since he'd entered the tepee. Knowing what he had to do, he drew his right hand to the knife in his belt, his left hand moving to rip open his shirt, exposing his bare chest.

Wolf, alarmed by the violent movement whimpered softly. Cloud Dancing nodded, understanding Sully's actions, lowering his head, out of respect as Sully began to let out a low wail. He drew the knife to his chest, sliding the blade across his heart three times, creating small lacerations, running parallel to each other horizontally over the left side of his ribcage.

Unable to interpret the self-inflicted gesture of suffering, Wolf rushed to Sully's side, licking his master's arm as he remained entranced, the blood slowly beginning to seep from the wounds. Increasing the desperation of his cries, Sully dropped once again to his knees, his hands falling out in front of him, head bowed as he watched the blood drip directly from his heart, mixing with the dried blood staining the blankets underneath him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

"Dr. Mike?" Colleen pushed the blanket to the end of the cot, getting to her feet. She'd not realized she'd fallen asleep until waking up, pushing the curtain aside, expecting to find Michaela in bed also. She wasn't. The bed was neatly made, and the kitchen area spotless.

"Dr. Mike?" the young girl frowned, suspiciously making her way towards the back door, opening it to look outside.

Scanning the garden and yard, Colleen held the edge of her skirt as she stepped out onto the dusty ground. She smiled when she noticed the barn door ajar. Shaking her head with a light chuckle, Colleen quickly crossed the short distance, the large wooden door creaking open.

"Dr. Mike… what you doing out here?" she queried, stepping inside, still trying to actually lay eyes on Michaela.

"Looking for something…. How was your sleep?" Colleen looked around, hearing Michaela's reply, although not being able to pinpoint the exact location.

"Oh… um… fine. Ah, where are you?" Colleen cringed, her analytical mind quickly deducing that Michaela's voice seemed to come from the hayloft.

"Up here… ah… there it is!" Michaela replied triumphantly, Colleen still not actually catching sight of her.

"Ma?... please tell me you're not up…" Colleen began climbing several rungs of the ladder before Michaela's head popped over the edge, flashing a grin at her.

"Maaa…" Colleen dropped to the hay covering the floor below, her eyebrows drawn in worry.

"Just a minute, Colleen, I'll be right down…" Michaela assured.

Colleen stood, hands on her hips, watching with understandable concern as Michaela carefully descended the ladder, her movements slowed and pained, arriving at the girl's side very awkwardly.

"Ma… you shoulda let me do that…" Colleen's face fell, watching Michaela struggle to recompose herself, a small box gripped tightly in her right hand.

"What's that?" Colleen stepped closer, pointing to the small object.

"Something my mother sent me months ago; a present for Brian…" Michaela caught her breath, before the pair made their way back towards the house.

"What is it?" Colleen continued, taking the box curiously from Michaela, opening it to reveal yet another box inside, this one however, magnificently gift-wrapped in blue paper, with various shades of blue-colored ribbons tied around it.

"It's a compass… it belonged to my Father. I wrote Mother about Brian's birthday, and requested that she send it…" Michaela gestured to the slightly ostentatious packaging.

"Whoa… she sent it all right, didn't she…" Colleen giggled as Michaela rolled her eyes, closing the door after they had entered the homestead.

Michaela took a seat, smoothing her skirt out, "You know what my mother is like, but I was at a loss for what to get him… and ten is a special age; he's growing up… so I thought it perfect. It's gold-plated with a golden lid and engraved… I'm actually dying to see it again…" Her head tilted back slightly, as she drifted into recollection.

Eagerly, the young girl took a seat opposite. "Well, you gonna give it to him today?" Colleen smiled, hoping it would lift Brian out of the current depression he seemed to be in.

"I might as well. After all, it's a week late," Michaela replied, reflecting that it had also been a week since her rescue.

"Well, why don't we, I dunno, have cake and stuff… make it into a party for him… he won't be suspecting anything…" Colleen smiled, looking around the room, quickly getting to her feet in excitement.

"That's a brilliant idea, Colleen…" Michaela turned in her chair, clapping her hands together, as Colleen began checking through the cupboards, ensuring they had the necessary ingredients.

**X.O.X**

"That was delicious lunch, Matthew. Thank-you…" Ingrid smiled sweetly, her eyes sparkling.

"Grace sure is a great cook, isn't she," Matthew agreed, gesturing to the repacked basket. Ingrid nodded, standing and beginning to fold up the rug they had been sitting on.

"You be all right, now?" She spoke softly, reaching to grasp Matthew's wrist.

"I'll be fine. You're right it ain't no-one's fault. Just have to keep everyone together…" Matthew trailed off, momentarily distracted by Brian's earlier behavior over breakfast. As if able to know what he was thinking without even saying it, Ingrid responded, the couple making their way over to the nearby wagon as she spoke.

"Brian is not still frighten?" She questioned awkwardly, aware of how upset Matthew's younger brother had been during Michaela's absence.

"I… I'm not sure… he's been acting strangely…" Matthew lifted her up onto the wagon gently, Ingrid following him with her eyes as he placed the basket and rug in the back, arriving beside her on the seat.

"How act strange?" the young girl brushed a piece of hair from her face, tilting her head to obtain Matthew's attention.

"Not wanting to go to school, always worried about Dr. Mike… I keep telling him everything's all right now, but… think her being so sick and all last week really scared him." Matthew reached for the reins, Ingrid moving to stop him, deciding it was important that they talk.

"My little sister be same when my mother die two years ago. She cry… be… what is word… ah… naughty… not be like self… she have bad dreams and not want to go away from me for long time… It take lot of love and time before she be all right again." Ingrid nodded, reflecting on her sister's troubled behavior, Matthew gazed across the vast meadow thoughtfully, much of what Ingrid had just said describing Brian perfectly.

"But it's not like Brian, he's a smart kid. And he seemed fine last week… this only started a few days ago." Matthew mused, shaking his head as he started the wagon moving.

**X.O.X**

Colleen scattered the food around the chicken coop, eventually managing to entice the most stubborn hen from her nest, fetching the last egg proudly. Balancing the eggs carefully in her skirt, Colleen paced back across the yard into the homestead, her eyebrows rising immediately as she took in the site of the room awaiting her.

Michaela, not exactly skilled when it came to culinary work, stood against the table, ingredients placed around her, a large mixing bowl in front of her, which she was filling with flour.

"Maaa….what…" Colleen's face fell at what had only minutes before been a spotlessly clean room, now covered in flour.

"I… um… had some trouble…" Michaela shrugged, dusting off the cookbook in her left hand, gesturing to the sack of flour resting precariously on the edge of the table.

"Here… let's start over, yeah?" Colleen placed the eggs gently in a bowl and crossed the room, uncertain of where to start.

"If we just make chocolate cake, I don't need a recipe for that…" Colleen suggested, Michaela closing the book in response.

"Sounds much easier…" Michaela dropped the book to the table, the simple impact of the book hitting the table enough to knock the bag of flour from its unsteady footing.

"Oh no…" Colleen gasped, as the white bag slipped to the floor, puffs of flour rising several feet in the air.

Michaela shook her head with a long, drawn-out sigh, as Colleen crouched down to salvage as much of the contents as she could.

"Is there going to be enough?" Michaela asked, taking a seat in sheer exasperation.

"Yeah… it's all right…" Colleen smiled, trying carefully to scoop the flour back into the bag.

"How about if… you bake… I'll watch?" Michaela cringed, Colleen bringing the bag up to the table, and starting from scratch once again.

**X.O.X**

"Afternoon, Reverend… got some nice, hot coffee just ready…" Grace smiled, showing the jaded man to a nearby table.

"Oh, Grace, that would be like an answered prayer, after the day I've just had…" Timothy exhaled, seating himself comfortably at the closest table, smiling as Grace filled the metal cup with steaming black coffee.

"I know, children sure are a bundle of energy, bless them…" Grace smiled warmly, tapping the Reverend compassionately on the shoulder.

"Hmm…" He trailed off, noncommittally, a much less pleasant opinion occupying his mind at the moment.

"Ah, Grace… morning Reverend…" Robert E. appeared, having sauntered quickly across from the livery, appearing to be slightly rushed. He kissed Grace on the cheek, directing his conversation to her.

"You got that stuff for Dr. Mike… was gonna head out there, so I'm back 'fore it starts gettin' dark." The Blacksmith smiled, looking around at the assortment of food bubbling and on display.

"Sure, just give me a few minutes to get it packed. Sit with the Reverend for awhile, he looks like he's had a long day…" Grace departed with a traditional smile, Robert E. removing his gloves and dusting off his shirt and trousers before taking a sit.

"You do look kinda tired there, Reverend…" He proposed, in a patient, yet direct manner, that encouraged the Reverend to open up to him,

"It's just… everyone in this town… If it's not the adults… it's the children… I feel like I'm running around trying to stop the baby chicks from escaping the coop, but they're just following the roosters… it's hopeless…" Timothy took another long sip of his coffee, Robert E. nodding in understanding, a knowing look flashing across his face.

"This about Dr. Mike, ain't it… I've had the same thing all day… gettin' mighty tired of it, I tell you." Robert E. noticed an empty cup left on the table, filing it with water from his canteen and drinking, glancing back towards the livery every few minutes.

"Can't people see how heartless they're being… I mean, I can forgive harmless chatter, but this just isn't the sort of thing nice people discuss." Timothy turned his head, watching the nearby townspeople making their way along the road.

"You think you got it bad… you oughta hear the rumors people been coming in with… 'specially the young men… some people saying that Sully deliberately traded her to the dog soldiers… most people just worried about what we're gonna do for a town doctor now… don't feel right seeing her after all that's happened…" Robert E. shook his head pitifully, Timothy reliving the events in the schoolhouse earlier.

"Well, still sounds better than what the children came up with. You know Benjamin Avery actually called Dr. Mike an… 'Indian whore'… right in front of little Brian… I tell you, I don't know where these young ones get it from.

"That poor boy… yeah… he seemed real down before when he came to collect his horse… at least that worked out for him, in the end." Robert E. smiled weakly, remembering all the emotion Brian had invested in Taffy during the time Michaela had been away.

"Yeah, don't know how I'm going to sort things out with the children. I mean, I don't feel right talking to them about it… but it's just getting out of control." Timothy finished his coffee, looking up as Grace appeared by his side, two large baskets in her arms.

"All set?" Robert E. noticed his wife's presence immediately, getting to his feet to take the heavy objects from her.

"Now you tell Colleen, there's a bit of everything, preserved apricots, meatloaf, apple pie, and of course some fried chicken for Brian." Grace smiled, looking between the preacher and her husband.

"Will do, and try not to worry, Reverend… Everything'll sort itself out." Robert E. smiled, departing without delay to the livery, to saddle his horse.

**X.O.X**

"There… should be ready in about half an hour…" Colleen slid the cake into the hot stove, Michaela, her head rested on her left hand, sat at the table, a brief smile crossing her face at the girl's natural cooking ability.

"I don't know how you do it, Colleen…" Michaela encouraged, Colleen closing the stove door and crossed the room, bending down to search under Michaela's bed.

"Just practice, Dr. Mike," the young girl replied, her voice somewhat muffled as her head and shoulders disappeared under the mattress.

"What are you…?" Michaela remained seated, rotating her body slightly so as to follow Colleen's movements.

"Just somethin' I made couple weeks back… forgot about 'til just before..." The girl's blond hair appeared once again from under the bed frame, a large, white animal-shaped cut-out coming into view.

"It's a donkey… pin the tale on the donkey…" Colleen quickly explained, seeing the look of embarrassed confusion running across Michaela's face. She didn't have the heart to inform Colleen she still didn't get it.

"You know… you spin around, try to get the tail in the right spot…" Colleen headed back into her room, returning after a moment with several tail-like objects constructed from horse hair.

"Oh, like a party game?" Michaela looked naively between the long black 'tails' and the white cut-out.

"Yeah… you each take it in turns… and whoever gets the tail the closest to the right spot, wins…" Colleen bit her lip, suddenly remembering the final required item and darted across to the chest of drawers to recover one of Matthew's bandanas.

"Doesn't seem very difficult…" Michaela assessed, seeing the tail-position marked with an "X" on the white cut-out.

"I guess not… but if Matthew spins you around enough, like he usually does, you end up totally confused…" Colleen tossed the bandana onto the 'donkey', crossing the room to begin the task of cleaning up the table.

"Here, I'll help…" Michaela got to her feet, deciding she'd rested enough, picking up the large mixing bowl awkwardly and taking it over to the washing up area.

Colleen, busy putting ingredients away, decided to broach a new subject.

"You ain't really thinking of going back to work next week, are ya, Dr. Mike. I mean, you were just saying that…?" Colleen watched as Michaela took in her words, her eyes dropping closed for a moment at the thought of having to face the townspeople.

"No, I... I meant it." Michaela lifted the heavy pitcher, pouring water into the mixing bowl and beginning to clean it with a cloth.

"But you heard what Dr. Cassidy said… you need to take it easy… let yourself…" Michaela cut Colleen off sharply, the young girl's jaw dropping at the hard look in Michaela's eyes.

"Well, I'm not Dr. Cassidy! I'm perfectly able to decide that for myself, and the sooner everything gets back to normal around here, the better!" Michaela, one eyebrow raised as if she expected Colleen to challenge her, continued to scrub the inside of the bowl vigorously.

Colleen remained motionless after the loud outburst, turning her head to hide the fact that tears were forming in her eyes.

"Yes, Dr. Mike…" She lowered her head, wiping down the tabletop, occasionally glancing across at Michaela worriedly.

**X.O.X**

"Here… for the blood …" Cloud Dancing handed Sully a piece of cloth, gesturing to the drops of fresh blood still occasionally soaking through his shirt.

Taking the cloth tentatively, Sully looked from the dying fire six feet away, the remains of blood-stained blankets and clothing now indistinguishable in the ash and soot they had become.

"Every time I close my eyes I can see it… as if I was there," he whispered, gazing across to the tepee, although Cloud Dancing understanding his words immediately.

Eventually managing to persuade him to leave the tepee earlier, Cloud Dancing had seen a shadow appear over his brother's face. He remained haunted by the visions he had described, sitting for hours captivated by the burning flames that had been in front of him.

Cloud Dancing handed Sully a ladle of fresh water, knowing he had no chance of healing whilst he still surrounded himself with the objects of his torment.

"You must return to town… Remaining here will only cause you more pain…" Sully shook his head in response, the perspiration still visible around his temples.

"No… that's more painful. Seeing Michaela… no, I gotta be by myself for a few days… Clear my head…" Sully ran his left hand over the back of his skull, feeling the small area of soft skin under his fingers.

"I wish there was something that I could do. I wish I had gone with my son, I would have stopped this from happening…" Cloud Dancing looked across the surrounds of the camp, many women still huddled together in distress. However from the tone of Cloud Dancing's voice, he did not mean merely the dog soldier's deaths.

"You once told me that the spirits say everything happens for a reason… I don't see no reason for this…" Sully got to his feet, Cloud Dancing lowering his head, having no answers to heal his brother's broken soul.

"I can't stay here any longer, I'm sorry." Sully beckoned the resting Wolf to his side, Cloud Dancing turning to face him upon hearing his words.

"Where will you be?" The older man frowned, extending his arm in farewell.

"I… don't know…" Sully glanced down at his gesture of friendship, however, this time feeling distant from his Cheyenne brother. Looking away, Sully focused once again on the ashes resting in the smoldering fire nearby, before he walked away finitely, Wolf disappearing loyally by his side into the afternoon sun.

**X.O.X**

"There…" Colleen sighed proudly, having finished icing and writing on the chocolate cake.

"I thought Matthew would be back by now... I hope he doesn't miss it…" Michaela pondered, resting quietly across the room.

"I'm sure he won't… you know what he and Ingrid are like though…" Colleen chuckled, thrilled for her engaged brother, however unable to deny the minute envy coursing through her veins.

"I bet you'll be glad to get back to school, after spending the days cooped up here?" Michaela, laying on her side, her head supported in her right hand suggested, glancing once again out of the window for any sign of the boys returning.

"Yeah," Colleen replied unenthusiastically, just imagining all the attention she was going to receive.

Michaela pushed herself upright quickly, hearing the faint sound of a horse drawing closer.

"Brian's home…." She announced with a smile, getting slowly to her feet and watching him dismount the horse, leading Taffy into the barn.

Colleen centered the cake on the table, quickly cleaning up the dishes from the icing. Michaela, smoothing her skirt around her, locked eyes with Colleen, both standing in front of the cake, not sure through which door Brian would enter.

"Ma!" He squealed, running in from the back door after several minutes, oblivious to their strategic positions between him and the table. Just as he arrived at his mother's side, Brian stopped abruptly, his outstretched arms falling quickly away, remembering Colleen's words from the night before.

"Surprise!" Michaela and Colleen giggled, turning and drawing his attention to the chocolate cake, with white icing and brown lettering covering it.

Brian's eyes widened, looking between each of them as he realized the cake was for him. Gingerly stepping against Michaela's skirt, Brian relaxed when her arms touched his shoulders, looking up at her with a delighted grin.

"Do you want to wait for Matthew, or have your party now?" Colleen crouched down to his side, suspecting the response.

"Aww…" Brian turned his head from Michaela to the cake, his conscience and childlike selfishness tearing him between the choices.

"Well, what if we play a game now, and then have cake when Matthew gets home?" Michaela suggested, her left arm gesturing to Colleen who brought the Donkey out from against the fireplace.

"Oh, boy! Steven had this at his party and I almost won… but Charles cheated. Can I go first…" Brian reached quickly for the donkey tail on the table, Michaela tilting her head, suggesting that they move the game outside.

Getting the donkey secured to the barn wall, Brian stood, eyes closed shut expectantly as Colleen tied the blindfold around his head, spinning him several times in different directions before pointing him towards the cut-out animal.

"Oh… I wondered what the catch was…" Michaela shook her head, having not understood up until that point why the game presented any challenge.

"Brian's loves it, he's good with direction…" Colleen turned back to the boy as he took several shaking steps forwards.

"Maybe the you-know-what won't be of any use to him then…" Michaela chuckled, Colleen meeting her eyes and smiling, a hand covering her mouth as she remembered the ridiculously overdone packaging the compass had been sent in.

"Um… ah… there…" Brian stepped back triumphantly, the tail stuck to the donkey cut-out.

Pulling the pale-blue bandana from his face to observe his judgment, his face fell with disappointment.

"Oh, Brian… you did well… you're only about eight inches away…" Colleen congratulated, patting his back.

"May as well a missed completely…" He hung his head, afraid he wouldn't win.

"Don't be silly, Brian, bet I'll never get any closer…" Colleen reached forwards to take the blindfold from him, Brian pulling it away quickly, turning from her.

"Ma's turn…" Brian protested, extending his arm to offer the bandana to Michaela, Colleen attempting to intercede.

"Brian… here… let me try… I wanna try…" Colleen tried to distract her younger brother, attempting to snatch the blindfold from his hand.

Michaela, looking between the blue cloth and her son's joyful expression, glanced between the donkey and his outstretched arm. It was only a cloth, and if she was going to be putting it on herself, Michaela didn't suspect it would bother her. Deciding immediately that what had happened would not alter her ability to enjoy spending time with her children, she took the bandana, closing her eyes with a silent swallow as she wrapped the soft material around her head.

"All right Ma, here…" Brian handed her the second donkey tail, Michaela feeling the rough horse hair between her fingers, aware that she could once again hear the sound of her own breathing. Forcing herself to drop her tensed shoulders, Michaela took a careful step forwards, concentrating on trying to remember where she was in relation to the barn, not preparing herself at all for the feeling of Brian's hands reaching to her shoulders, pushing her forwards and trying to turn her around in a small circle.

**X.O.X**

Matthew steered the horse along the long path towards the homestead, seeing figures moving from a distance, he sped up somewhat, momentary relief washing over him until he realized what was taking place.

Colleen, who had reached to grab Brian's arms immediately when hearing Michaela's strangled gasp, looked up upon hearing the wagon approaching. The two children, their attention focused on Matthew's impending arrival failed to notice Michaela pull the blind fold from her face, a hand resting on her chest as she took several shallow breaths reassuring herself of her surroundings.

"Matthew! You gotta come see this... Ma and Colleen baked me a cake and everything…" Brian ran towards the wagon.

Colleen subtly kept an eye on Michaela, starting to get the impression she wasn't coping as well as she liked to make out.

"Hey, little brother…" Matthew secured the horses, jumping down from the wagon, Brian attempting to pull him towards the front door.

"Come on, Brian, let's go show Matthew your cake…" Colleen joined the boys, glancing across at Michaela worriedly as they went on ahead inside.

"Dr. Mike… Brian didn't notice if…" Colleen tried to sound compassionate, Michaela quickly brushing past her towards the steps leading to the porch.

"He'll want to cut the cake, best not keep them waiting…" Michaela barely looked in her direction for more than a second before clasping her hands together, stepping through the doorway.

Colleen, her eyes wandering with uncertainty, felt trodden on once again. She was trying to be supportive, trying to ensure Dr. Mike that she didn't have to act as if nothing had happened, that no-one expected her to. Collecting herself, the middle Cooper child wiped a single tear from her left eye, clutching her skirt and following Michaela inside.

"Now then… cake or present?" Michaela arrived at Brian's side, tickling him from behind. The young boy gripped his arms tighter around his chest, squirming away, giggling uncontrollably, waiting until he'd stopped laughing before trying to reply.

"Present…" He chose immediately, Michaela stepping across to the chest of drawers, removing the blue gift-wrapped box from the brown outer casing and handing it to the young boy.

"This is from you?" He asked, running his fingers over the delicate ribbons tied into a perfect bow on the top.

"Right… and your Grandma. She sent it all the way from Boston… it was your Grandpa's…" Michaela dismissed the thought of Josef quickly from her mind, looking between Matthew and Brian as the boy nodded, beginning to tug on the ribbons until they loosened.

"So it's really old, then?" He continued, placing the ribbons respectfully on the table, his uncoordinated finger struggling to locate the edge of the paper wrapping.

"Yes, Brian. But I thought you might find it useful when you're out in the woods… And, you're growing up. Besides, it's not the kind of thing boys really need in Boston…" Michaela chuckled, Matthew crouching by his brother's side by this stage, also intrigued by the contents of the box.

Colleen remained perched worriedly in the doorway, her back pressed up against the frame as she observed the indescribable change in Michaela's behavior.

Brian, having managed to remove the paper, was left with the red leather casing in his small hands, biting his tongue in anticipation as he obtained Matthew's assistance to open the hinged lid.

Momentarily distracted by the unfamiliar casing, Michaela looked between the boys, hearing Brian's gleeful cry as he savored the first glimpse of his gift. Bringing the object from the box, he wrapped the fingers of his right hand around it, Matthew taking the box from him as he proudly displayed his prized possession.

Michaela, the air rushing rapidly from her lungs as she saw the metallic object glisten as it caught the sunlight through the window, felt her knees buckle underneath her, taking a step backwards to prevent herself falling.

"That's not…" Colleen frowned, the black-handled pocketknife Brian held with unparalleled gratification a far cry from the golden compass Michaela had expected her mother to send.

"Wow Ma… this is the best present anyone could get in the whole world… I can't wait to show Sully…" Brian, completely consumed by his rapture in his new possession flipped the blade in and out in front of Matthew's encouraging eyes.

"Pretty cool, Brian… make sure you're careful with that though…" Matthew nodded seriously, his eyes capturing the small engraving along the blade.

"Dr. Mike… I thought Grandma had sent him a compass?" Colleen, her arms folded across her chest, crossed the room, unaware of Michaela's near collapse.

"So... did I..." Michaela stuttered, her voice unmistakably hoarse and strained.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**X.O.X**

**Friday, 19****th**** May, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Colleen, waiting until Michaela had closed the door on her way outside, turned to her younger brother, trying to get him ready for school.

"Brian, how could you be so stupid!" Colleen yelled, pulling Brian's vest over his shoulder's roughly.

"Weren't stupid! 'Sides she'll get the most money… and then the play'll be even better…" The ten-year old defended, having informed his mother and sister of the auction only minutes before over breakfast.

"Dr. Mike can't be in the auction Brian, and you shouldn't a just asked her like that… no wonder she got upset…" Colleen sighed, almost beyond words at her younger brother's seeming insensitivity.

"She didn't get upset… just said she had to… go…" Brian tilted his head towards the back door.

"She was just bein' polite, Brian… probably didn't wanna burst into tears in front a ya… she's doin' everything she can to hold it together 'round you… and you just keep expecting more!" Colleen yanked his vest closed around his chest, turning away, a hand brushing her face, too strung-out to finish doing up the buttons.

Brian stood, his feet frozen to the floor. He'd never heard Colleen so mad at him before, and he still didn't even understand why.

"Want me to finish cleaning up the table…." He lowered his head, carefully beginning to stack the plates around the table.

"Leave it, Brian… just…" Colleen turned back towards the table; her body drooped, letting out an exasperated huff.

Brian, letting the plates drop slightly too loudly back to the table, jogged hastily across the room, disappearing through the back door.

**X.O.X**

"Mornin', Dr. Mike… you all right?" Matthew noticed Michaela crossing the garden from the outhouse, looking noticeably uncomfortable.

"Fine… wagon ready?" Michaela changed the subject swiftly, smoothing out her skirt over her petticoat.

"Just about… although Brian'll probably still want to ride Taffy…" Matthew chuckled, rolling his eyes as the blond boy came hurtling out from the homestead.

"You all ready? That was fast…" Michaela paced over to him, assuming he'd notice her and respond.

"Brian?" She repeated, the boy continuing to run past her towards the barn.

"What's with him?" Matthew frowned, witnessing the little display. Michaela held her glance on the barn door as it slammed closed behind him, shaking her head.

"I don't know…" She picked up the edge of her skirt, gesturing for Matthew to continue preparing the horses.

Michaela, without realizing it, paralleled Colleen's earlier actions, crossing the yard into the barn, looking around in search of Brian's small form.

"Brian… sweetheart? Where are you?" Michaela frowned, checking the horse's stalls one by one, Scout and Flash the only two left by this stage.

"Ma…?" The boy's frail voice was eventually audible, Michaela shifting her head from side to side to locate him.

"Brian… Matthew's ready to leave…" She continued, still not managing to find him.

"I ain't goin' to school…" Came the sullen reply, Michaela eventually pin-pointing Brian's location; the hayloft.

"That's not like you… you seemed excited about the play before?" Michaela gestured with her left arm back towards the homestead.

"Well I ain't now…" Brian trailed off, pieces of hay slowly drifting downwards towards the ground.

"Sweetie… if you… wanna talk… you can come down here and we'll talk…" Michaela, quickly deciding she wasn't capable of climbing up there again, raised her head, hoping Brian would relent easily.

"Nah… stayin' up here…" The boy threw another clump of hay over the edge, Michaela becoming suspicious that he was actually aiming them at her.

"Brian… if you don't stop doing that, Matthew won't have anything to sleep on tonight… please… you know you can talk to me…" Michaela, after rubbing her eyelids tiredly, began brushing the straw from her hair.

"I just don't wanna go back to school… kids are bein' mean…" Brian tentatively crawled to the edge of the loft, ensuring Michaela was still there.

"Well, have you told the Reverend?" Michaela frowned, stepping forwards to rest her arms of the rungs of the ladder, trying to maintain eye contact with her son.

"Yeah… he was there… he stopped 'em…" Brian responded, feeling hesitant to discuss yesterday's events with Michaela. As much as he had been brought up knowing he could talk about anything with his family, he didn't want to hurt his mother's feelings by informing her of the name-calling the day before. Subsequently, the young boy found himself caught between wanting to talk things out and be comforted, however being sensitive enough to not want to be specific.

"Well then… shouldn't be a problem anymore…" Michaela crossed the barn to reach Flash's stall, sensing they'd reached a resolution.

"Hello, girl…" She smiled, brushing the hair along Flash's nose softly, receiving a nudge of recognition from the mare.

"Ma? You shouldn't call people names, right?" Brian's voice was slightly louder this time, Michaela turning to see him descending down the ladder.

"No, you shouldn't, Brian…" She kissed Flash's nose slowly, turning to meet Brian as he arrived back on the ground.

"But… but what if someone's saying something about someone… and it's true?" He checked his pockets, pulling out his new pocketknife, and fidgeting with it.

"Well… ah… if it's… hurting them… then they still shouldn't… say it..." Michaela tried to focus on Brian's face, however he was consumed with his new present, and kept drawing her attention away.

Brian continued flicking the blade of the knife from the handle for several moments, Michaela determining he'd had enough time to calm down.

"Well… Matthew's got Taffy all ready…" She prompted, leading Brian towards the door.

"Maybe… I… shouldn't go…" He paused in the doorway looking between his horse and Michaela, who stood behind him. "You'll be here all alone…" Brian dropped his head, his reasoning a careful mixture of sincerity and manipulation.

"I'll be fine…" Michaela rolled her eyes, pushing him gently through the door and into the yard.

"He all right?" Matthew crossed the yard to Michaela's side as Brian went inside to collect his books.

"Yeah… I think… mentioned some trouble at school, doesn't seem to want to talk about it though…" Michaela shrugged, Matthew nodded knowingly.

"Maybe just not with you," he replied, his voice slow and thoughtful, however trying to convey his underlying meaning.

"I…" Michaela trailed off, her jaw dropped in sudden realization. She watched silently as Brian exited via the front door, neglecting to say goodbye as he mounted Taffy and began to walk off away from the homestead.

"Hey, Brian! Seeya, Dr. Mike…" Matthew put his hat back on his head quickly, as Colleen appeared on the porch.

"Let's go…" Matthew gestured to Brian's diminishing figure, Colleen quickly climbing up into the wagon, Matthew joining her and starting the horses.

"Have a good day!" Michaela smiled warmly, watching as the horses began their familiar journey from the homestead.

Waiting until the wagon was out of sight, Michaela turned and stepped back inside the now empty homestead. Her upper body rested momentarily against the door as she closed it, before she pushed herself away, gazing around at the few dishes still left on the table.

Realizing she had at least seven hours of uninterrupted silence, Michaela began the ritualistic task of cleaning up the plates and cutlery from breakfast, grateful for the distraction.

**X.O.X**

He had remained hidden in the bushes surrounding the homestead for over an hour now, watching Michaela and the children as they had eaten breakfast and prepared to leave for the day. Stroking the head of the Wolf standing quietly beside him, Sully continued to watch in silence as the wagon departed, Michaela pacing back along the porch, and disappearing from his sight.

Sighing, Sully longed to go to her. He knew he couldn't. Just looking at her again, reminded him of everything he'd seen the day before. As much as he wanted to assure her he was there for her, he feared she would still not want to see him. Not feel comfortable around him. Although she'd told him she didn't blame him, Sully wasn't sure he believed it, after all, he blamed himself; he had failed in his promise to her, to the children in not being able to protect her when she needed him. This thought again brought images from the tepee to his mind, and shrugging, he looked back down at the wolf who had saved his life only a week before.

**X.O.X**

Pouring the left-over dish water over the garden, Michaela looked up sharply. She'd felt it for several minutes now, a depersonalized feeling that someone was watching her. Leaning the metal basin against the side of the homestead, she ran her eyes over her surroundings, her head moving slowly. Looking down, she patted Pup's head as he lay dozing in the sun beside her. As her fingers ran over his smooth fur she was sure of it. _Sully. _Her gaze returning to the bushes and trees as far as she could see, she couldn't make him out. Dropping her head back down as she reached for her skirt, Michaela realized of course that she'd never know for sure even if he was there. However, it hadn't been that long ago she'd been sure of his presence nearby, and been wrong. The single memory enough to trigger a stream of events in her mind, Michaela running back quickly towards the confines of the homestead, her breathing heavy by the time she slammed the back door behind her.

Feeling her head touch the wooden door, Michaela dropped her eyes, her hands drawn to her face as moment by traumatic moment flashed its way through her conscious mind.

"No…" She felt herself whisper, willing the intrusive sights, sounds and sensations to cease. Taking several steps across the room, she found herself encircling the homestead, her gaze drifting from familiar items in a desperate attempt to distract herself. Crossing the room, Michaela arrived at the small table of photos and books. Her teeth clenched tightly in her mouth, she ran the tips of her fingers along the photograph of David, her eyes however locking instantly to the photograph beside it; her father.

Aware of her mouth drying just thinking of him, Michaela was unable to deny the plummeting belief that she'd let him down. As she stared at the picture gripped tightly in her left hand, Michaela reflected on what her life had been whilst her father had been alive. It was a different world. A world in which her determination, independence and non-conformity had been the subject of many disagreements amongst her mother and sisters, however a world in which she'd been secure and protected, if not accepted. It was also a world Michaela knew she could never go back to now; a world in which women like her were ostracized and scorned. A bolt of terror ran through her instantly. Had her family been informed of her abduction… did they know she…

Placing the frame gently against the top of the cabinet, Michaela was torn from her thoughts by the sound of a howling coming from outside. Moving quickly to the window, she could barely see Pup in the distance, running from the bushes. About to reach for the door to call to him, Michaela saw the familiar head of brown hair emerge over a hundred feet away, fading into the distance, the older wolf by his side.

Looking down at her hand reached across and resting on the door, Michaela thought of going after him, however realization dawning on her that had he wanted to see her, he'd have made his presence felt. She could no longer expect that he would want to be with her, not as they had been. He'd agreed to help with the children, however Michaela knew that that was the most she could ever expect. If only she'd known he was alive…

Waiting until he faded from view completely, she dropped back to the edge of the bed, reminding herself she'd promised Colleen she'd take it easy today. Rolling over onto her side, Michaela gazed once again at the collection of photos across the room, unaware of her eyes falling closed.

**X.O.X**

"Oh, Colleen… I…." Becky had waited until the Reverend had dismissed them for recess, the two girls walking silently around to the back of the schoolhouse, before she engulfed her friend in a tight hug.

They'd exchanged small glances all morning, Colleen finding it nigh on impossible to concentrate, looking from Brian's forlorn expression, to the pointing and snickering from the likes of Benjamin Avery, she'd reached beside her to squeeze her best friend's hand more times than she could count in the last two hours.

"I just don't know what to do… I can't stand being here… all the boys talking 'bout us… Bein' home ain't any better though…" Colleen pulled away from the embrace after several moments, the pair settling themselves on the damp ground at least grateful for the twenty minutes or so of privacy.

"Yeah… you shoulda heard the stuff bein' said yesterday… Brian nearly decked Benjamin…" Becky widened her eyes, informing Colleen of the 'Indian whore' event.

"Guess that explains why he was refusin' to go to school again… Can't say I blame him if this is gonna keep up…" Colleen gestured to the boys peering around the edge of the schoolhouse to spy on them.

"You guys get outa here!" Becky got to her feet, attempting to shoo the boys away. Benjamin Avery had other plans.

"Colleen, you gotta come quick, Brian's hurt himself… he's 'round the front…" Benjamin tried to keep his voice serious and unwavering, watching as the blond girl pulled herself instantly to her feet, the four running around the side of the schoolhouse arriving at the group of children huddled together whispering.

Colleen looked suspiciously between Benjamin and Becky, seeing Brian sitting quietly next to Steven on the steps, looking perfectly normal. About to approach him, she turned her head sharply as the chorus of war cries began being emitted from the five or so boys only twenty feet away.

"What are you…" Colleen barely had time to realize what was going on, Benjamin beginning to run straight for her, all the boys following in torment.

"Get her! Get her!" He cried, the boys responding by increasing the volume of their Indian calls, Brian and Steven looking up immediately as Benjamin caught Colleen's arm, pulling her to the ground.

"Benjamin, stop it… what…" Colleen felt her arm hit the ground hard, suddenly realizing just what the boys were playing.

"Nah, you gotta fight… come on…" The older boy erupted into malicious giggling, arriving on the ground next to her to grip her upper arms, and continue the 'reenactment'. Becky stood, mouth open as the boys crowded around Colleen, receiving the exact response they were looking for when she struggled against Benjamin's grasp. Brian, running across the playground to get to her side, was grabbed quickly by Cal and pushed to the ground, in mocking playfulness.

"Ha! We've got her now… and you ain't gonna rescue her!" He planted his foot squarely on the young boy's chest, making it impossible for him to move.

"Benjamin… I mean it… get off!" Colleen squealed, trying to see past the boys crowded around her.

"If you want me to stop, you're gonna have to make me…" He bullied, leaning over her smaller form, his arms still tightly pushed against her shoulders.

"Here… here…" Charles took off his belt quickly, handing it to Benjamin.

"Ahhhh… now I've got you!" Benjamin's eyes glistened with mischievous intent, wrapping the belt around Colleen's wrists firmly.

Becky, watched, horrified for a moment, before running inside to get the Reverend's assistance. Brian, his face shielded with his hands, still tried to squirm from Cal's grasp.

"Let her go, let her go!" He pleaded, the boys' prank having the exact traumatizing effect on him that they'd intended it to.

Colleen looked from Brian's struggling form only several feet away, suddenly aware of the firmness of Benjamin's hands on her shoulders.

"Benjamin… please… you're…" Colleen tried to remain in control of the situation, refusing to overreact as she knew that was the response they were after.

"You gotta let your little friend here save you…" Benjamin looked up, seeing the boys disperse around him as the Reverend ran from the classroom.

Timothy's eyes took in the scene around him immediately, mortification running through every muscle of his body as he approached the group.

"What the _hell_ are you children doing!" He bellowed, not even aware of his strong language until several children around him gasped. Glancing upwards he begged apology instantly, waiting for the older children to react to his voice.

Benjamin got quickly to his feet, pulling Colleen up with him as he untied her hands and handed the belt back to Charles. Cal too, removed his foot from Brian's chest, the small boy remaining perfectly still, no-one aware of the tears running down his cheeks for several minutes.

"We… ah… were just mucking around, Reverend…" Benjamin helped Colleen brush the grass from her dress, the young girl scowling at him, however refusing to let him upset her.

"Well, that I could see. I'm… beyond words, Benjamin. All of you… you boys… you're all staying back after school today… we're going to have a long-overdue talk." He gestured to the half a dozen boys surrounding Colleen and Brian, no-one really aware of the young boy's presence until he rose to his feet, running frantically back across the meadow towards the main street.

"Brian…? Brian! Brian, wait…!" Colleen tried to run after him, quickly realizing it was hopeless and walking to Becky's side as she wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulders in support.

Timothy motioned for the children to return to the classroom, the whines of complaint failing to register as he looked between each of the Cooper children.

"Reverend, should I go after him?" Steven whispered, tugging gently on his arm.

"Huh… oh… no… let him be, Steven. He'll come back when he's ready…" the Reverend patted the young boy's back as Steven disappeared inside also.

"Colleen… Are you all right?" Timothy approached the girl, who'd remained very calm and quiet over the past several moments.

She shrugged, with a reassuring nod, the three of them watching until Brian was out of sight.

"If you want to go talk to Brian for awhile…?" The Reverend offered, excusing her.

"No… he'll probably go home… he's been real upset, Reverend. This ain't what he needed…" Colleen whispered, squeezing Becky's hand a final time as they all slowly climbed the steps, the Reverend closing the door gently once they were all inside.

**X.O.X**

"Sully… didn't expect to see you 'round here…" Robert E. looked up from the horseshoe he was hammering as the Wolf and his master strode towards him.

"Why?" Sully looked him up and down, suddenly suspicious that his presence may not be welcome.

"Just thought you'd be out with Dr. Mike, is all… didn't mean nothin'…" Robert E. perceived the defensiveness in Sully's voice, stopping his work and reaching for his canteen of water.

"Yeah, well… don't know if I'm too welcome 'round there either…" Sully folded his arms, leaning back against the wooden fence as Robert E. placed his canteen on the workbench beside him.

"That'll sort itself out, Sully… just gotta give it some time," the Blacksmith nodded his head thoughtfully, his eyes drifting away.

"Robert E… I… you were with the men when they found her, weren't you?" Sully scuffed his feet awkwardly against the ground, deciding that of all the men in town, Robert E. was the one he could talk openly with.

"… Yeah…" He looked up, his dark eyes large and reflective.

"Did you see..." Sully trailed off, his heart paining at the memory entering his mind once again.

"I… ah… didn't see much, Sully… We'd been ridin' since Tuesday… Made camp Tuesday night… spotted the dog soldiers few hours after dawn Wednesday mornin'… once we knew they're all dead, started searchin'… Horace was the one that found her… maybe you'd best talk to him?" Robert E. consoled, understanding that Sully was trying to, as tactfully as possible, create a picture of the events that had occurred in his absence.

"It's not that… I… was there yesterday… I saw…" Sully hovered his hand symbolically over his chest for a moment, grateful when Robert E. caught his drift.

"Heard it was bad… not something you want the likes of Jake Slicker seeing… Heard it's got him pretty uncomfortable… working here all hours of the day, people passin', get to hear what's goin' on…" The Blacksmith gestured around him, looking out towards the cafe, people scattered randomly at tables.

"So, what would you do?" Sully hung his head, his voice dull and dejected.

"What would I do?" Robert E. repeated, slightly confused, the two turning to watch as Grace ran frantically between tables, trying to keep up with coffee demands.

"Yeah… if it was Grace…" Sully looked back at his friend, their eyes meeting in understanding, Robert E. moving his head slightly at the thought.

"Sully… you know I've seen my share a troubles… what I been through. Let's just say the life I've had… this ain't all that new to me… seen stuff like this too many times…" Robert E's voice had dropped to a barely audible whisper, his eyes fixed on the ground as Sully noticed the tears begin to appear down his cheeks.

"I… I didn't know…" Sully quickly tried to take back his words, Robert E. however appreciative of the moment of connection between them.

"I ain't told nobody 'bout this, Sully… not even Grace. Not something people like to talk about… Back, 'fore I escaped… had two youngin'… raised 'em best I could… but still knew they weren't ever gonna be able to be anymore than I was… Just something someone owned, to do with what they wanted… my… son… was about Brian's age, beautiful boy, smart, honest… worked with me, tried to make it easier… his sister, 'round Colleen's age, worked inside with her mother and my owner's wife… One day… just like any other… out working the fields… little Carl came running over… said Verne told him it was quitin' time. So went back to our quarters for supper… wife, Carl and I… waited for a fair time… Harriet still hadn't come home. Got dark and I went out lookin'… asked 'round the farm, no-one'd seed nothin'… she… she was a good girl, Sully… weren't never late home or nothin'… knew somethin' weren't right, so I… kept on lookin'…" Robert E. dropped his hands to his sides, his eyes glassed over reliving the event.

"Finally… got to the barn 'side the meadow I'd been plowin' all day… was hard to see in the dark, could only see the blood glistening against the moonlight… was a full moon… always remembered that…" he took a loud breath, tears running down his cheeks as his chest began to shake.

"Saw my little girl's body… layin' against the hay… all her clothes torn… he'd … killed her… my baby girl… violatin' her weren't enough… he had to slit her throat as well…" Robert E. let his body fall against Sully's, his voice trailing off into sobs of indescribable anguish, his hands trembling by his sides.

Sully, at an utter loss for words, brought his arms around his friend's back, looking up, guilt washing over him for his earlier selfish complaints.

"I'm sorry… Robert E… I…." Sully squeezed his arms tighter around the man's grief-stricken form. Robert E. was right... it could have been far worse…


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

The small boy continued running, tears streaming down his face as he crossed over the bridge. Feeling the rough ground under his feet as he arrived on the main street, Brian took several deep breaths, wiping his eyes until the tears were gone, his pace never slowing until he turned the corner into the alleyway next to the clinic and eased into a brisk walk. Arriving at the livery, Taffy greeted him warmly, Brian searching his pockets for some candy, which he fed the mare as he untied her and pulled himself into the saddle.

"Come on, girl… let's go see Ma…" His voice still weak from crying, Brian walked the horse back along the alleyway about to turn into the main street when he saw Sully approaching him.

"Brian… saw you running past Robert E's just before… something wrong?" Sully rested his arm along Taffy's neck, more to stop Brian moving than anything else.

"Just wanna go home, is all…" The young boy looked ahead, his mouth closed tightly as he swallowed any remnants of tears away.

"Well how about you and I go grab a piece of pie first… have a chat… then… you can decide how you feel…" Sully suggested, sensing the troubled emotions brewing inside the boy's guarded expression.

"Don't want any… want to go home!" Brian frowned, Taffy turning her head sharply at the increased anger in his voice.

"Hey... Brian… hey… you can go home, won't try an' stop ya… just wanted to see if I could help ya… thought maybe you'd like to talk?" Sully stepped closer to the horse, managing to slip the reins from Brian's fingers, the boy lowering his head as his eyes welled up with tears again.

"Reckon you'd be all right to talk for a bit?" Sully waiting for the boy's resigned nod before lifting him carefully from the horse, Sully tying Taffy up in front of the Clinic before taking their seats on the bench which ran along the porch.

"Something happen at school?" Sully rested his foot on the edge of the seat, glancing at Brian's non-threateningly.

"Kids are teasin' us… Benjamin's…" Brian took a deep breath, pulling at the buttons on his vest somewhat destructively.

"Benjamin is what, Brian? Teasin' ya?" Sully frowned, his eyes shifting along the scenery in front of him.

"Saying bad stuff yesterday… hurtin' Colleen today…" Brian looked in the direction of the schoolhouse before returning his forlorn gaze to the wooden floorboards in front of him.

Sully sighed, suspecting that the children would be on the receiving end of some very heartless comments, although not to the extreme that Brian was indicating.

"Hurtin' Colleen?" Sully turned to Brian, his eyes lowered in seriousness.

The boy nodded and proceeded to tell Sully of the morning's events.

"You're all right? Cal didn't hurt you?" Sully touched the boy's shoulder defensively, worried that Brian may have been injured.

"Nah… weren't that hard…" Brian reassured, his legs dangling from the edge of the bench, moving slowly.

"Long as you're not hurt… sure the Reverend'll talk some sense into 'em…" Sully consoled, his mind reeling with disbelief at the thoughtlessness of the schoolchildren.

"And wait 'til Ma finds out… she'll really scream at them…" Brian smiled, his face lighting up as he remembered Dr. Mike's reaction when she learned Miss Chambers was physically abusing his classmates.

"Ah… Brian… maybe... maybe it'd be best if you didn't tell Dr. Mike 'bout this…" Sully cleared his throat, running his hand along the boy's jacket as his face melded into confusion.

"But she says I can tell her anythin'… says we shouldn't have secrets…" Brian found himself in a moral dilemma, Sully's words contradicting those of Michaela's.

"That's right… you shouldn't have secrets. But sometimes, Brian… there are times where we don't wanna hurt someone's feelin's… right? Where maybe we don't tell them the exact truth… coz we don't want them to feel bad. Know what I mean?" Sully frowned, hoping he was able to get through to Brian.

"Yeah… like I didn't wanna tell Ma 'bout what Benjamin said yesterday… coz that'd make her feel bad. Even when she wanted me to tell her… I wouldn't…" Brian turned more definitely on the bench to face Sully.

"What'd he say, Brian?" Sully leant closer, realization dawning on him that what these children were being exposed to was on a different plane from some harmless schoolyard teasing.

"He…" Brian twisted his mouth slightly, looking from the Saloon back down to his chest. "… called Ma an Indian whore… Sully… but she ain't a whore… is she?" the young boy looked up nervously to meet Sully's appalled glare, Brian's face tilting as he waited desperately for confirmation.

"No… Brian… of course not…" Sully sighed audibly, his left arm wrapping around his left knee as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Then why'd he say that?" Brian continued, comforted by the ability to talk about it with someone.

"Well, coz sometimes, Brian… young people hear a word that they don't quite understand… and they think it means something it doesn't… and they know it's a bad word, so they use it when they want to make someone feel bad. But what Benjamin said weren't true, Brian… don't you listen to him…" Sully reiterated, Brian appearing satisfied with the response.

"Don't worry, I ain't never listening to him again…" Brian concluded, somewhat calmer, although still eager to get home.

"So, fancy some pie, now?" Sully nudged Brian's arm affectionately, assuming the young boy would give in easily.

"Nah… wanna get home…" He rose to his feet, crossing the porch to untie Taffy.

"All right, Brian. But any time you need to talk, I'll be around…" Sully smiled as Brian mounted the horse and prepared to leave.

"Sully… you're gonna come 'round for supper tonight ain't ya?" Brian checked, assuming Sully would as he was in town.

"I… don't know 'bout that, Brian… it's up to ya Ma…" He distracted himself picking at flakes of wood on a nearby post.

"Aw, but you gotta come for supper… I know Ma'd want ya to… please, Sully?" Brian begged, Sully seeing the supplication in his eyes.

"Well, how 'bout I drop by later on… if Dr. Mike wants me to, I'll stay…" He patted the boy on the back warmly, Brian pleased by the compromise.

"Thanks, Sully…" He led the horse down the main street, eventually disappearing from sight.

**X.O.X**

Michaela, waking to the sound of an approaching horse, was momentarily disorientated, not realizing she'd fallen asleep hours before. Rising from the bed, she glanced out of the window, eyes locking on Dorothy's fiery red hair in the distance. Smoothing her skirt around her, Michaela opened the door, stepping out onto the porch as Dorothy dismounted and secured her horse, a warm smile forming as she arrived at Michaela's side.

"Afternoon, Michaela… just thought I'd stop by, see how you were doin'…" The older woman clasped her hands awkwardly in her lap, not sure if her presence would be welcomed.

"Well, everything's fine…" Michaela gestured for Dorothy to go inside, following behind her and closing the door.

"Colleen and Brian back at school?" Dorothy queried, as she stood awkwardly in the middle of the homestead.

"Somewhat reluctantly, but yes… Please… have a seat, would you like some tea?" Michaela traveled quickly across the room, Dorothy accepting quickly.

"Oh, but, I can do it… you sit…" Dorothy arrived by her friend's side, her concern obvious.

"Dorothy, don't be silly… I'm perfectly capable of making tea…" Michaela shook her head, and began putting the pot on the stove to heat.

There was silence, Dorothy glancing around the now-familiar homestead, although at a loss for words. She'd been instructed by Olive to 'check-up' on Dr. Mike, however she surmised from Michaela's crisp words and swift movements, she wouldn't be tolerable to any sympathy.

"So, how is everyone? No problems… or anything?" Michaela took a seat opposite Dorothy, the redhead raising her eyebrows as she considered the question.

"No… nothing I can think of… Jake pulled a tooth yesterday for one of Olive's ranchers… that's about it, I think," she replied, Michaela nodding in response, again the pair found themselves in silence.

"Colleen and Brian all right?" Dorothy searched desperately for words.

"Fine… so is Matthew… had a party for Brian yesterday… so we've some left-over cake." Michaela rose, Dorothy watching in silence as she carefully sliced two pieces, placing them onto small china dishes.

"Looks delicious…" Dorothy smiled, Michaela finishing making the tea, setting the cups gently on the table.

**X.O.X**

The pair remained silent whilst they ate, each glancing up at the other at random intervals, quickly returning their attention to their cake and tea in front of them.

Dorothy, sliding the fork delicately onto the edge of her plate, decided enough was enough.

"Michaela… Olive and I… we've been worried about you… how you doin'… really?"

"I told you… I'm fine." Michaela finished the last mouthful of tea, replacing the cup on the saucer eloquently.

"See… we've just been worried… coz Olive said you've not spoken to her about what happened… and you've only spoken with me the once… and well… I know it's not something you can keep bottled up forever…" Dorothy took a breath, trying to convey her concern in a non-confrontational manner.

"What is this, Dorothy… you and Olive checking up on me?" Michaela flicked her hair back over her shoulder, her words short.

"No, Michaela… we're just… concerned. Want you to know we're here for you…" Dorothy trailed off, her voice softer against Michaela's obvious unease.

"Then I appreciate… your concern… but it's not necessary." Michaela reached for Dorothy's cup and saucer, sliding them back across the table towards her as she dismissed Dorothy's earlier statement.

"Just if it were me… I think… I know I'd want a friend to talk to… a friend who's been through… somthin' similar…" Dorothy phrased her final two words carefully, reminded of the times Michaela had comforted her after her husband's death.

"You weren't there… you can't say it was anything like…" Michaela got to her feet quickly, her hands shaking slightly as she carried the dishes across to the basin.

"You're right, I can't. But I do know what it's like to be alone… scared… lyin' curled up, in so much pain you can't move… not knowing when it's gonna end… not knowing if you're gonna live to see…" Dorothy had stood from her chair as she spoke, crossing the room towards Michaela, who remained facing the window, her hands clenched tightly against the cupboard.

"Stop!" Michaela pulled her hands quickly from the wooden counter in front of her, turning suddenly towards Dorothy, her face red.

Dorothy, her eyes looking upwards and head straightening in response to Michaela's strained plea. Careful, so as to not move an inch, Dorothy kept her gaze on her friend's face, waiting. Knowing that if she just waited… said nothing… Michaela brought her hands to her face after a moment, shielding her eyes as she dropped her head. Dorothy could barely make out the sound of her voice, it was muffled by her arms as she dropped them from her face, slowly with each word.

"I… can't you see… I don't want to remember! … I don't want… I don't want to have to think about it… I just… want to be able to put it behind me… I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to have people feeling sorry for me. I just want to… go on with my life… like it didn't happen… I know you're trying to show me you care… I know that… and I am grateful for that… but… this is the only way I know how to deal with this, Dorothy… and I would appreciate it, if you would leave it up to me…"

Dorothy watched as Michaela very delicately recomposed herself throughout her final sentences. Her face returned to its natural color, her arms hung loosely by her sides. Knowing that to have expressed herself so openly was an enormous challenge for Michaela, Dorothy remained silent, content, if not agreeing with, her friend's proposed coping strategy.

The two women stood motionless for a minute or so, each looking around the room before assessing the other's reaction, neither wanting to be the first to speak.

"Dorothy… there is one thing I needed to ask you… you didn't… ah… I mean… the last time I was sick, the children sent a telegram home… I just…" Michaela, her voice returned to its original level of confidence and tact.

"No… oh, of course not, Michaela. Loren said people were talkin' about it… but Matthew was pretty firm, said it wouldn't be right," Dorothy replied, her voice slightly questioning, unsure if the town had made the right decision.

"Thank God for Matthew, then…" Michaela relaxed her shoulders, Dorothy not quite comprehending.

"You're not gonna tell them? Michaela… they're your family…" Dorothy shook her head, bewildered, her eyebrows lowering in a mixture of disbelief and condemnation.

"Exactly… they're _my_ family, Dorothy. Please… you don't understand… it's different out here…" Michaela tried to end the conversation, however images of her mother and sisters and their families, still fresh from their trip to Boston last year, filling her mind.

"Michaela, nothing can be that different… they're your family… they love you… they…" Michaela cut her off instantly.

"They'd disown me, Dorothy!" Michaela drew a breath, Dorothy digesting her friend's statement, neither having any words to follow with.

Michaela was the first to hear the approaching horse, turning her head towards the door, Dorothy catching on quickly and moving quickly to the window.

"It's Brian… I'll go…" Dorothy opened the door, slipping out onto the porch as the young boy slowed the horse to a stop, dismounting with a surprised glance at Dorothy.

"Hey, Miss Dorothy…" Brian nodded politely, tying the horse next to Dorothy's and running up the steps eagerly.

"Afternoon, Brian… everything all right?" She asked, a hand resting on his shoulder, to appear concerned, but in reality, to prolong his entrance into the homestead.

"I guess…" He paused, looking between Dorothy and the closed door, his face immediately adopting a look of worry.

"Ma's all right, ain't she?" He tried to step past Dorothy, instantly able to detect the stalling that was taking place.

"Oh, she's fine, sweetheart… how about if you go put Taffy away, though, just give your Ma a few minutes….?" Dorothy suggested, Brian looking none-pleased with the request, however turned back towards the steps in compliance.

"Brian?" Michaela opened the door behind Dorothy, both her and Brian turning at the sound of the third voice. Brian beamed, passing Dorothy swiftly to arrive at Michaela's side, returning her hug desperately.

"Are you sick, has something happened?" Michaela automatically felt his forehead and looked him up and down in concern.

"No… I ain't sick… I just… kids at school were bein' mean…" Brian clung to her waist tighter, not sure if he was going to get into trouble.

Dorothy, seeing that Mike now had her hands full, decided to make herself scarce.

"Anyway, I'd best be gettin' back to the store… Loren'll be wantin' his afternoon break an' all… You need anythin' from town or anythin'?" Dorothy held her hands behind her back, stepping carefully down to the ground and untying her horse, squinting against the sunlight.

"No… but I do appreciate the offer Dorothy… I'll see you Monday back in town," Michaela replied curtly, yet with sincerity, Dorothy slightly surprised by Michaela's decision to return to work so soon, however knowing that attempting to challenge her on the issue would be pointless.

"All right then, take care Brian, good day Michaela…" Dorothy mounted the horse, nodding her goodbyes as she turned and proceeded away from the homestead.

"Now… what was all that about, young man?" Michaela bent down habitually to look the boy in the eye, momentarily being reminded that it wasn't such a wise move. Keeping her glance fixed on the boy's troubled face, she extended her right hand to the ground to balance herself.

"Can… can Sully come for supper, Ma?" Brian replied quickly, remembering Sully's words about keeping the school incidents from his mother.

Michaela's eyebrows raised, his question startling her more because it was so far from what she'd expected than because of the content.

"I… I guess so… when did you see Sully?" She asked, looking out towards the scrub she'd seen him departing from that morning.

"In town…'bout an hour ago… he said he'd love to come if you said it's all right…" Brian continued, his voice rapidly paced, rich with excitement.

"It's fine by me, I don't know what we're going to have though…" Michaela led the boy inside as he informed her of Matthew's fishing expedition he'd told him about that morning during their ride into town.

**X.O.X**

"No, Benjamin… it's not just a bit of fun… you've all gone too far." The Reverend paced around the two front rows of boys, his hands crossed tightly over his chest.

"We didn't mean to hurt Colleen, Reverend… but she was really fightin' me…" The oldest student defended, not being able to resist the chance at sneaking a small smile to Cal, on his right.

"That's beside the point, Benjamin… what did you think you were doing… playing a game like that anyway… that's just cruel." Timothy shook his head, trying to get a rational answer from one of the five students around him.

"The Reverend's right… I didn't know it was gonna get all that serious… honest. Just thought it was a bit of chasing…" Lewis, seated behind Benjamin spoke quietly, deeply ashamed at his involvement.

"Thank-you, Lewis, that's more like it. I mean… did any of you bother to think about it from Colleen and Brian's point of view? How'd any of you be if something like that happened to your Ma… Benjamin? You think it'd be one big game if you were in Brian's shoes?" The Reverend continued, trying to appeal to any bone of sensitivity Benjamin Avery may possess.

"Never happen to my Ma, Reverend. She'd never give herself to an Injun…" He retorted instantly, several of the boys covering their mouths with their hands to hide their sniggering.

"Right, that's it! I've had it with the lot of you. We're gonna get one thing straight. And it's not something I like having to talk to children about… however… I'm your teacher and I think it's important we cover this… Any of your parents have a problem, they can come and speak with me tomorrow." Timothy reached for his Bible which lay in the middle of his desk, skimming a few pages, before placing it back down, deciding quickly that the Good Book wasn't going to be of any use on the matter.

"We are just gonna sit here and talk about this. I don't care if it makes anyone uncomfortable, that's just bad luck." The Reverend cleared his throat, before continuing: "Benjamin… tell us… what does the word violate mean?" Timothy clasped his hands together, watching as the most outspoken member of his class suddenly became very quiet, turning a bright red color. The boys across the row all fixed their eyes on him, Benjamin looking awkwardly between Cal and the Reverend before tentatively replying.

**X.O.X**

"What about cookies, Ma… even you can make them pretty good now…" Brian looked up from the brown leather recipe book in front of him, trying to decide on something for dessert.

"Oh, I can, can I? Thank-you for that vote of confidence…" Michaela chuckled, throwing a dish cloth at him across the table.

"I just meant… if you wanted to make something before Colleen got home…" Brian stopped, hearing Pup start barking outside.

"It's Sully! Sully's here!" The young boy bounded towards the front door, Michaela getting to her feet, beginning to pick up loose items around the table and returning them to various locations around the room. Feeling her teeth grip her lower lip, she followed Brian through the front door, arriving onto the porch as Sully approached, Pup running over to greet Wolf excitedly.

"Hey Sully!" Brian looked between Michaela and Sully, unable to decide who to stay with, Sully reaching the porch whilst he was still choosing.

"Heya Brian…" Sully placed his arm on the boy's shoulder, looking tentatively at Michaela, all efforts desperately focused into appearing calm and relaxed.

"Sully… Ma said you can stay for supper…" Brian quickly informed him, Michaela looking from Brian to Sully, a small smile creeping across her face at Brian's tactlessness.

"Afternoon, Dr. Mike…" He met her smile hesitantly, Brian beginning to pull him inside.

**X.O.X**

"Right… well I think that just about covers it… don't you?" The Reverend looked around the deathly silent classroom, each of the five boys remaining frozen in their seats.

Charles, raising his hand nervously, looked from each of the boys around him, and then back to the Reverend.

"Um… ah… Reverend… um… the only thing I don't understand… um… yesterday… um… my Pa says that the girl's at the Saloon are whores coz they go with men… so how come you said what Benjamin said yesterday weren't true?" Charles questioned, in all seriousness.

"Because… as we just talked about when we talked about consent… The girls at the Saloon choose to work for Hank, they choose to… do that sort of thing when they're not married." Timothy tried to explain, Lewis looking slightly concerned and raising him arm in protest.

"Not Myra, Reverend… She don't want to do it anymore… but Hank's forcin' her… ain't that wrong, then?" Lewis tried to apply his newly acquired knowledge to his Uncle's sweetheart.

"Ah… Lewis… it's a little different… but, I ah… believe we've covered what we needed to this afternoon. Anyone have any questions?" Timothy concluded, the looks of nauseous embarrassment on each of the boys' faces sufficing.

"Then, you're all free to go home. And just remember everything I've said front now on." Slowly, the classroom burst into hurried movement. The Reverend sighed, wiping his hand awkwardly across his forehead, taking a seat as he actually retraced the conversation he'd just had with the boys. Waiting until all had left, Timothy reached for his bible, skimming through several chapters trying to find some solace, however being met with contradiction and confusion.

**X.O.X**

"You really struck gold with this lot, Matthew…" Sully looked from the fillets of freshly fried fish to the eldest Cooper child, everyone making their way quickly to the table.

"Yeah… didn't look like anything was gonna bite... but then all of a sudden four in a row… came in handy, seeing as how Brian invited you…" Matthew phrased the final point awkwardly, raising an eyebrow in Brian's direction.

Michaela looked around the table, everyone quickly joining hands and lowering their heads, Brian taking care of the blessing.

"God… thank-you for giving Matthew the fish to catch, for Colleen cooking it, and for Sully coming to eat it. And thank-you most for bringing Ma back. Amen." Colleen and Matthew exchanged smiles at Brian's now standard addition to their nightly blessing, Sully keeping his eyes downcast so as not to risk glancing in Michaela's direction.

"So, Sully… whatcha been gettin' up to?" Matthew queried as the food began being passed around the table and dished onto plates.

"Nothin' much… checkin' traps…" He lied slightly, thanking Brian as he awkwardly passed him the fish.

"Ma and Colleen gave me a Birthday party yesterday, Sully… wish ya coulda come, it was great…" Brian trailed off, smiling between his mother and sister.

"You certainly ate enough cake… wonder you weren't ill…" Colleen rolled her eyes, moving awkwardly to reach for the beans which were placed in front of Brian, who was sitting between Michaela and Sully.

"Ah… may I have the beans, please…" The young girl tilted her head slightly, struggling to reach across the table.

"Sure," Michaela and Sully replied in unison, looking down quickly as their hands met, gripping the edge of the china bowl.

"Sorry…" Michaela pulled her hand away instantly, as if her fingertips had been burnt by fire. Sully handed the bowl to Colleen, his eyes never leaving Michaela, as he watched her struggle to avoid his powerful gaze.

"Sully… reckon we could go swimmin' tomorrow… Sully?" Brian looked up from his plate, not having received a response.

Sully's eyes remained locked on Michaela, glancing down at his own dinner only momentarily before returning his glance subtly to watch her pick at her meal.

"Suullllyyy?" Brian whined, feeling neglected, Colleen and Matthew both trying to silence their brother's childish pleas.

"So… ah… Colleen… how was school?" Matthew spoke firmly, trying to draw attention away from Brian, in hope of a nice non-threatening conversation.

"Oh… fine…" Colleen glared back at him, anxious to change the subject.

"It was n, _oww_!" Brian began, receiving a gentle kick from Sully under the table, handing his head and returning his attention to the food in front of him.

"Yeah, Brian…. Sounds like a great idea tomorrow… swimmin'… if it's warm enough though…" Sully chewed on the food in his mouth thoughtfully, Michaela glancing counter-clockwise around the table, from Colleen, to Mathew, Brian and finally Sully; there was an under-current here she wasn't being included in.

"Great… Colleen what'd you make for dessert?" Brian laid his knife down beside his fork gently, eager to move on to his favorite part of the meal.

"Nothin' 'til you finish those vegetables," his older sister replied tersely, but with a hint of a smile in her eyes.

Sully looked between each of the children in turn, before daring one quick glance in Michaela's direction, the awkwardness he was feeling only increasing. The meal continued for a few more minutes in utter silence, one of the children eventually attempting to launch into a subject, however each dying out after several sentences.

"May we be excused?" Matthew waited until everyone had finished their main course, pushing his plate away.

"Of course… don't you feel like dessert?" Michaela looked up, aware of the tension surrounding the conversation and feeling disheartened by it.

"Nah… come on, Brian… what do you say to a game of checkers?" Matthew drew the boy's attention away, the two departing the table swiftly and setting up the checkers board on the middle of Michaela's bed.

"So… we having dessert or not?" Colleen turned the corner of her mouth up slightly, feeling slightly depressed by the uncomfortable meal they'd just shared.

"Nothing for me… Sully?" Michaela looked to Sully, knowing he would refuse.

"I'm fine… still light out…" He noted, getting to his feet and peering through the front window.

"Not too windy, either," Colleen contributed, glancing from the side windows as she began stacking dishes.

About to ask Michaela if she wanted to join him outside, Sully kept his mouth closed, merely opening the door and stepping out onto the porch, keeping the door ajar, so as to look as if he'd just not managed to close it fully.

"Dr. Mike?" Colleen turned, Michaela arriving at her side to help with the dishes.

"Thought I'd give you a hand," Michaela replied, Colleen taking the dish cloth from her with a shake of her head.

"No… you're gonna go outside… talk to Sully… why do ya think he went out there?" Colleen smiled, Matthew looking up from their checkers game to nod affirmatively.

"Colleen's right, Dr. Mike… ya know he's dying to talk to ya…" Matthew raised his eyebrows, chuckling as he made a double-jump over two of Brian's pieces.

"I know… believe me… I know…" Michaela sighed looking between each of the children resolutely, before crossing the room to the doorway, trying not to make any sound as she slipped through the door.

"Colleen's right… not too windy…" Sully remained seated on the top step of the porch, shaking hands with Wolf playfully.

"Not too cold, either…" Michaela hovered by the doorway, closing the door and waiting before crossing the porch.

"Tonight weren't such a great idea, was it?" Sully watched as Wolf paced across the yard, distracted.

"I'm worried about Brian… he came home from school today… been acting up the last two days now…" Michaela took several steps along the porch, still remaining closer to the door than to Sully.

"He's havin' a tough time… you know what kids are like, it'll pass." Sully kept his head hung, busying himself by picking off various pieces of dirt from his buckskins.

"I just wish there was something I could do… I can't stand seeing him upset like this." Michaela leaned against the homestead, gazing at the sunset before her.

"Just somethin' he needs to go through… ain't nothin' you can do sometimes…" Sully sighed, frustrated about having to procrastinate around the real issue.

"But I'm his mother…" Michaela trailed off, unsure as to how to complete her sentence.

"I know. And I know you feel bad not bein' able to fix everything… sometimes you can't though… something's just… I dunno… forget it…" Sully couldn't find the right words, aware that his mind was no longer thinking about Brian and his school bullying problems.

Michaela remained still, the truth to Sully's comments reminding her of what they both knew they were really talking about. Feeling the tension build between them with each passing moment of silence, Michaela reflected on the trivial conversations they'd had over dinner.

"You sure you don't mind taking Brian swimming tomorrow? I just would have thought you'd have had other things that were more important?" She spoke delicately, her mind drifting to Cloud Dancing and the rest of the Cheyenne village.

"No, told him I'd take him, and I will… as I said, want to help with the children where I can… same as always…" Sully cleared his throat, fighting the desire to turn and lock eyes with Michaela.

"Well, you know how much you mean to them…" Michaela clasped her hands in front of her, trying to deduce where she stood with Sully. He'd made no reference to her whatsoever, Michaela suddenly remembering his presence this morning.

Sully heard the crispness in her voice, wishing he could turn around, look at her, without fearing she'd look away. Wishing he could pull her into his arms, and hold her. Sighing in response, he knew he couldn't. Michaela had made her position very clear several days earlier. She wanted him to help with the children, nothing more.

"Why did you just walk off this morning?" She asked out of the blue, deciding a painful answer was better than none.

"Didn't know you'd seen me…" He rested his hands either side of his body against the wooden step.

"I didn't at first… Wasn't even sure it was you until I saw you leaving…" Michaela leant forwards slightly, her back pulling away from the supportiveness of the wooden wall. She felt the pins and needles return to her arms and legs once again. The anxiety almost choking her, she struggled to think clearly, her breathing coming in short gasps.

"Guess I need to work on my camouflaging a bit more…" Sully swallowed, noticing the sky beginning to darken around them.

"You still haven't answered my question. Why were you out here, anyway?" She continued, loathing the idea of being spied upon.

"Was just… checking you were all right… didn't want to bother you… just making sure…" Sully responded quietly, knowing Michaela would be quick to reassure him she didn't need his protection… anymore.

"I don't need you looking out for me… The decent thing would have been to at least announce yourself." She pulled her hair across her left shoulder, beginning to retie the rawhide bow.

"Well, then, I promise, it won't happen again…" Sully gave in, turning to look at her, seeing once again the emptiness in her face.

"Good." Came the immediate reply, Michaela looking out towards the horizon, a gentle breeze beginning to blow. She could feel her heart pounding throughout their extremely strained conversation, her breathing rising in her chest, being torn between wanting to burst into tears and not allowing herself to. She could feel Sully's ill-ease also. He didn't know what to say to her, and with every glance in her direction Michaela could see him thinking about what she had been through, as if he were able to see the events playing out behind his eyes each time he looked at her.

Michaela turned back towards the door, her final thought forcing her to turn from his sight. If he was thinking about what had happened, she knew he was thinking about where their relationship had been prior to the previous several weeks. Swallowing, reaching for the door, Michaela heard him get to his feet behind her, realizing what they had had could never be again. He would not love her in the same way, how could he? How could she expect any man to look at her now. Of course he would feel sorry for her and be polite and help with the children, but he would never look at her with that mischievous spark in his eye, never run his fingers around her waist, never bring his lips tenderly to hers. Michaela gripped the door handle tighter in her right hand, the taste of honey coming to her lips instantly. Her left hand brushing her mouth, sensations, images and sounds jumbling together into an emotional rollercoaster inside her head, Michaela pushed through the door back into the homestead, crossing the room to take the soapy dishes from Colleen, not a word passing between them.

Sully remained still until she'd left his sight, feeling the guilt wash over him once again. Michaela had been right. Watching her every moment of every day for the rest of his life would never be able to make up for the days he'd spent unconscious on the cliff floor. How could he have been so foolish to have thought their relationship could resume from where it had left off. Despite loving her with every fiber of his being, Sully knew that was not what she wanted. Knowing Michaela Quinn had never wanted a life of convention, he forced himself to dismiss what their relationship had been, sure that they would never be more than close friends now, if even that. Sully realized it was also selfish to expect anything more than that. Images from the previous day flooding back into his mind, reminding him that after what she had endured, he could not expect her to feel about him, as he had felt she once had. Arriving in the doorway to watch her aid Colleen with the washing up, Sully rested his hand on the wooden frame surrounding him, knowing that she needed him to be a friend right now. To be someone she could rely on. He also knew he needed to be honest with her. About the situation with Brian, as well as the things he'd seen yesterday. She deserved that. Subconsciously nodding his head as he thought, he resolved he would tough it out. He'd let her down once before, and that wasn't about to happen a second time. Nothing would see them separated again.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

**X.O.X**

**Saturday, 20****th**** May, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Brian crept quietly along the floorboards, pushing the curtain aside just enough so as to be able to make his way across the homestead. His breathing still fast, and wiping his hand across his tear-stained face, squinted to see in the darkness of the small room.

"Ma... Ma?" He whispered, arriving at her bedside, the moon streaming in from the window catching her face as she slept.

"Ma?" Brian repeated, hesitant to touch her, Colleen's words from several days ago repeating in his mind.

His face falling when she didn't stir. Brian hung his head, his jaw trembling from the nightmare he'd just had. Taking several steps closer towards her, the small boy bent down quietly, until his head was resting just above hers. Listening for several moments, he was immediately reassured at the sound of her breathing, images from his nightmare still haunting him.

Again careful not to make any noise, the young boy tip-toed cautiously around to the other side of Michaela's bed, before very slowly and quietly climbing onto the bed, slipping his legs under the quilt and resting his head on the pillow. Reaching out to run his fingers through the ends of Michaela's hair which were splayed across the mattress between them, Brian locked his left hand around the final few inches, letting his eyes fall closed in the reassurance that she was all right.

**X.O.X**

**Sunday, 21****st**** May, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela awoke, the sun beaming directly into her eyes. Yawning, she rolled over onto her back, her left hand colliding with Brian's head.

"Brian?" Michaela whispered, her voice still gravelly from sleep, a mixture of concern and shock evident in the harshness of her tone.

Pulling herself into a sitting position, Michaela watched the boy continue to sleep for several minutes. Stroking his hair affectionately, Michaela wondered what he was doing there. Why hadn't he woken her if he was ill? Even if he'd had a nightmare, he usually woke her, or Colleen. So why hadn't he this time?

"Brian… it's morning, sweetheart…" Michaela rubbed his back as he squinted his eyes in an attempt to wake up.

"Ma?" Brian looked awkwardly around him, realizing where he was.

"Something wrong? You have a bad dream?" Michaela began straightening out his hair around his face, Brian waking up more fully and beginning to remember his dream from the night before.

"Uh-huh…" He nodded, wiping the sleep from his eyes, and sitting up tiredly.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Michaela rested her hands together back in her lap, relaxed by the fact that Colleen was still asleep.

"I… I dreamt that you didn't come back, Ma… that nobody could find you… so everyone thought you were dead… and… and the Reverend had to do a funeral and everything… just like when my real Ma died," Brian replied, remnants of his nightmares replaying themselves over and over in his head as he talked.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's a horrible dream to have… but it's all right. I'm back here with you… and Matthew and Colleen..." She pulled him closer to her, wrapping her left arm around his small back.

"I know… it was just really scary…" Brian slipped his arms around her waist; head nestled gently against her chest.

"I'm sure it was… why didn't you wake me?" Michaela kissed the top of his head, her left hand rubbing his upper arm.

"I was gonna, but then I didn't want to make you scared again… like before…" Brian sighed, his eyes drifting across the room to the table where the teacup incident had occurred.

"Before?" Michaela frowned slightly, Brian's honest concern coming across in his words.

"Before… when I grabbed your arm and scared you and the teacup broke… Colleen said I can't touch you unless you know I'm gonna… coz you'll get scared… so I couldn't wake you up to tell you 'bout the nightmare…" Brian moved his head to look up at her, Michaela's eyes narrowing slightly as she began to realize there were conversations and events going on behind her back that she wasn't remotely aware of.

Looking down at the troubled boy's expression, Michaela could see the conflict across his face.

"Brian, listen to me… Colleen was trying to do the right thing… but I don't want you feeling as though you have to keep anything from me, you understand? Nothing has to change between us… I'll always love you… and I don't want you to worry about me… I don't care how many cups get broken around here…" Michaela squeezed him tighter, her eyes dropping closed in an emotionally pained moment. Brian, taking in her words, remained comforted in her embrace, looked down to the patchwork quilt.

"All right, Ma," he whispered, relieved that he no longer had to worry about getting into trouble around her.

**X.O.X**

"Mornin', Dr. Mike…" Olive paced quickly across the meadow, engulfing Michaela in a warm hug.

"Good morning, Olive," Michaela replied politely, watching as Brian jumped from the wagon and arrived at her side.

"Brian… hear you had a birthday party the other day?" The older woman smiled, squeezing the boy's shoulder affectionately.

"Sure did… wanna see my present?" Brian reached his hand eagerly into his pocket, retrieving his prized possession.

Michaela cringed slightly as Brian displayed the pocketknife to Olive.

"That's very nice, Brian… Tell ya what, think I saw your little friend Steven over by the steps, bet he'd like to see too…" Olive attempted to dismiss the child, Brian shrugging stepping closer to Michaela's side.

"He… he's already seen it…" Brian stood his ground, watching as Olive looked awkwardly back up at Dr. Mike.

"Dorothy informed me you'll be back at the Clinic tomorrow... this true?" Olive changed the subject swiftly, unable, as usual, to conceal her disapproval.

"That's correct," Michaela replied curtly, watching as Colleen found Becky amongst the crowd's of townspeople gathering for the Sunday service.

"Bit soon ain't it?" Olive continued, her forehead wrinkling as she emphasized her opinion.

"I don't believe so." Michaela managed to spy Dorothy in the distance, excusing herself courteously from Olive's company, Brian tagging at her heels throughout.

"Ah, Michaela, didn't know if you'd be joining us, today… it's good to see you…" Dorothy beamed, however their previous conversation still fresh in her mind.

"Thank-you." Michaela responded quickly, becoming aware of the attention she was receiving from the twenty or so townspeople around them.

"Mornin' Miss Dorothy…" Brian smiled, looking around defensively as he noticed the hushed voices and subtle gesturing in their direction.

"Morning, Brian, the Reverend tells me you're all starting to work on a play, said I'd write about it in The Gazette." Dorothy leant over to address the small boy.

"Yes, Ma'am. Don't know what it's gonna be about yet though, the Reverend wants Colleen to help write it, coz she's got really nice writin'." Brian informed her, struggling to maintain her glance, being distracted by people huddlin' around them.

"Well, you tell the Reverend, that I'd be happy to print up the script when it's finished, make copies for everyone." Dorothy too had noticed the gawking and snide comments coming from around them. Protectively she took a step closer, her right hand brushing Michaela's left arm.

"Maybe we should move inside?" Dorothy suggested, her voice hushed, as Brian clung closer to Michaela's right side.

Michaela merely nodded, feeling the anxiety rising from her chest as she felt the numerous pairs of eyes on her. Following behind Dorothy, with Brian at her side, Michaela could hear the whispering, able to make out only fragments of non-complimentary words.

"Ma…why don't you say somethin'… yell at 'em…" Brian tugged on her sleeve, looking around at the sea of judgmental glares.

"Hush, Brian…" Michaela found her voice, her hand resting on his head as they approached the steps, Jake Slicker, hands in his pockets, raised an eyebrow, looking suspiciously between Michaela and Dorothy.

"Don't even think about standing in our way, Jake…" Dorothy hissed, her voice tinged with a threatening tone he'd never heard before.

"Did I say anything?" He retorted, Loren and Horace arriving at his side with uncomfortable smiles plastered on their faces.

"You were thinkin' about it," Dorothy leant closer towards him, her voice equally menacing.

Dorothy arrived at the top of the stairs, turning, so as to let Michaela and Brian inside before her.

"Aren't you comin' inside, Miss Dorothy?" Brian queried, Michaela turning to reach for his arm.

"I'll be there in a moment, Brian. Save me a place?" Dorothy smiled, the boy satisfied with the reply, disappearing inside the church after Michaela.

Dorothy arrived back down at the bottom of the steps, addressing the three men still muttering amongst themselves.

"I expected more from you, Jake Slicker. And you two, standin' there like Cheshire cats… oughta know better. You're just as bad as the rest of 'em…" Dorothy gestured her arm loosely to the townspeople gossiping in groups in the distance.

"Aww, Dorothy... it's just… we don't know what to say…" Loren defended the men, both Horace and Jake nodding their agreement.

"I mean… it's such a darn horrible thing… nobody wants to talk about it… not 'round Dr. Mike anyway…" Horace held his hat nervously in his hands, looking between the men either side of him for support.

"That's just it, don't say anything. Michaela just wants to forget about it… so should we. Just treat her exactly as you did before, that's all." Dorothy moved her glance from each of the men in turn.

"Ain't exactly something some of us can forget… is it now, Horace?" Jake lowered his gaze, the telegraph operator shook his head silently knowing exactly as to what Jake was referring.

"I ain't sayin' it's gonna be easy. But if Michaela can do it… you three certainly can. Now, she's gonna be back at the Clinic first thing tomorrow… want all a you to make an effort to… be… well… normal. Keep an eye out, sure… but don't go actin' like there's a problem. People are gonna be awkward enough going to see her now, ya gotta set an example to the rest of the town. That what happened don't make any difference… She's still the only doctor we got, and we don't wanna lose her. You just bear that in mind. Now, I believe the Reverend's about ready to start… gentlemen. Go and take your seats…" Dorothy turned without waiting for acknowledgement, and proceeded back inside.

**X.O.X**

"Mornin' Dr. Mike, Brian… lovely to see you both today…" Timothy approached Michaela and Brian warmly, Brian afraid he was going to be chastised for his absence yesterday.

"Thank-you, Reverend. I would also like to apologize for someone's behavior on Friday. Brian knows better than that, and he's been told to come to you if there are any more… problems…" Michaela raised an eyebrow in her son's direction, Timothy and Brian exchanging a very shrewd glance.

"Oh, I understand, Dr. Mike. Brian, I can assure you, there will be no more problems, either. The offending parties have been… spoken to." Timothy phrased his words awkwardly, looking up with relief as Jake, Horace and Loren appeared in the aisle apprehensively.

"Go on… remember what Dorothy said…" Loren nudged Jake on the back forcefully, Jake clearing his throat as he fidgeted with his vest, striding down the aisle to take a seat in the row directly in front of Brian.

"Morning', Dr. Mike… lovely day, isn't it?" Horace followed closely behind Jake, taking a seat next to Brian, resting his hat on his knees.

"Yes, Horace… very pleasant…" Michaela forced a grateful smile, watching as Loren began rubbing his chin restlessly.

"Hey, Mr. Bray!" Brian turned in his seat to greet his elderly friend.

"Mornin' there, boy… Dr. Mike… I'll… I'll just sit here…" Loren sidled towards the row behind Michaela, Brian and Horace, the anxiety dropping from his face the moment he sat down.

Michaela turned her head back towards the front, glancing down at Brian as she heard the footsteps of people filing their way into the church around them.

"Sorry, Dr. Mike… got held up… outside…" Matthew tucked his right hand, his now blood-stained handkerchief wrapped around it, under him, taking his seat very gingerly.

"That's quite all right, Matthew… where's Colleen?" Michaela turned as Matthew sat down next to her somewhat awkwardly.

"I… ah… not exactly sure…" The young man tried to hide the discomfort he was in.

"You all right, Matthew?" Michaela frowned, noticing his right arm hidden by his side.

"Fine… ah… there's Colleen…" Matthew quickly changed the subject, Colleen seeing them and approaching quickly.

"Matthew!… I just heard what you…" Colleen rushed to his side, Matthew silencing her with a violent glare, the young girl swallowing and settling herself next to him.

Michaela, consumed with Brian's idle chatter, had been distracted, Colleen's exasperated words going unnoticed as the rest of the town took their seats, Reverend Johnston arriving at the lectern to begin the day's service.

**X.O.X**

"You find us somewhere to sit, Brian…" Michaela handed him the picnic rug, taking the basket of food from the back of the wagon, noticing Colleen and Matthew locked in dramatic conversation by the steps of the church.

Approaching them slowly, Michaela noticed the handkerchief tied around Matthew's right hand. The pair looked up quickly noticing her heading towards them, Matthew whispering quickly to his sister before each adopted a pleasant expression.

"Matthew… care to explain your hand?" Michaela reached forwards, Matthew pulling his arm away defensively.

"Ah, it's... ah… nothin'…" The young man swapped a discouraged expression with Colleen before offering his hand forwards, Michaela grabbing it instantly and removing the blood-stained handkerchief.

"Matthew!" Michaela gasped, noticing the fresh lacerations to his knuckles.

"Dr. Mike's it's not what it…" Matthew sighed, Michaela resting a hand on his shoulder as she instructed him to return to the wagon, reaching for her medical bag immediately.

"It looks like… you've been in a fight recently Matthew. And from the color of the blood, freshness of the cuts, I'd say within the last hour or so." Michaela quickly found the ethyl alcohol bottle, removing the cork and preparing to pour it over Matthew's knuckles.

"Well, weren't my idea… just... happened… believe me, it's all over now." Matthew looked around for any sign of Benjamin Avery's family.

"Worth it, was it?" Michaela looked between her eldest son and his injured hand as she doused the wounds.

"Yea... owwww!" Matthew moaned, trying to pull his hand away. "Not really…" He quickly contradicted, again exchanging knowing glances with his sister.

"Just who were you fighting with?" Michaela dried the area, beginning to bandage it slowly.

"Ahh… just some kid…" Matthew looked away, not being able to meet her eyes as he lied.

"Matthew, the least you two can do is be honest with me…" Michaela finished securing the bandage around her son's hand, Colleen nodding slowly for Matthew to disclose.

"Was Benjamin Avery, Dr. Mike. He's been pickin' on Brian and Colleen all week… apparently the Reverend gave them all a good talkin' to on Friday, but that Avery boy wouldn't quit… so I… just set him straight…" Matthew lowered his head, aware of Michaela's feelings regarding physical violence.

"And is he hurt?" Michaela replied hastily, remaining suitably professional.

"His folks took him home earlier… he'll live. Hopefully won't be opening his mouth too fast in future though." Matthew turned to Colleen, the girl unable to hide the smile of satisfaction appearing on her lips.

"And you think that's just fine, don't you? The pair of you… Matthew, thinking you can just pick fights with somebody… and Colleen… going behind my back and telling Brian what to do and what not to do around me? You two start keeping secrets from me and you're as bad as the rest of them!" Michaela, not realizing she'd raised her voice until Colleen nestled closer to Matthew's side, several nearby townspeople watching curiously.

Colleen, her mouth twitching shamefully, took several steps closer to Michaela.

"We're sorry, Ma… we just… couldn't stand the idea of ya gettin' hurt by what people been sayin'. I didn't want Brian upsettin' ya neither…" Colleen hesitantly placed an arm around Michaela's back, Matthew nodding slowly in agreement.

"Well keeping the truth from me is worse," Michaela replied simply, shifting her gaze uncomfortably around the gathering of curious onlookers.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

**X.O.X**

**Monday, 22****nd**** May, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Ma?" Brian appeared from behind the curtain, still in his nightgown, a dismayed expression crossing his face.

"She's just outside, Brian…." Colleen frowned, seeing the worry sweep over him as he scanned the homestead in vain.

"Best get ready for school…" Colleen suggested, her words falling on deaf ears as her younger brother ran towards the back door.

"Ma!" Brian raced across the yard, oblivious to the coldness of the ground as he approached Michaela's side, she and Matthew preparing the wagon for the day's traveling.

"Morning, sweetheart… sleep well?" Michaela bent down to hug him tightly, Matthew running his eyes up and down the boy, surprised that he wasn't dressed yet.

"Fine..." Brian clung awkwardly to her side, Michaela noticing and bending down to his level.

"Good… now go dress for school, or we'll be late…" Michaela ruffled his hair, expecting the boy to turn and comply with her request without delay. She raised an eyebrow when he didn't move, looking away miserably.

"Ma… do I gotta go to school today?" Brian surveyed the small rocks and branches on the floor around him before looking up nervously.

"Have to go to school…" Michaela corrected automatically before continuing, "Now Brian… you heard what the Reverend said. Those boys won't be teasing you anymore…" Michaela consoled, stroking several strands of his hair neatly back over his head.

"But… I… I ain't feelin' well… might be catchin'…" Brian brought a hand delicately to his stomach, looking between Matthew's skeptical shrug and his mother's instant concern.

"Brian… are you sure you're not just worried about the boys at school?" Michaela routinely felt his forehead and glands.

"No, Ma… honest… think I'm gettin' sick…" He hung his head, Matthew turning to continue reining the horses, not buying Brian's act for a moment.

"Well, if you're sure it's not because of those boys… you can stay at the Clinic with me, today… but you're staying in bed…" Michaela gave in reluctantly; sure that Brian merely feared any teasing, however aware that he felt particularly vulnerable these last few days.

"Thanks, Ma…" Brian quickly brought his hand back to his stomach, as if to reinstate how 'ill' he felt.

"We're leaving in twenty minutes…" Michaela shook her head as he miraculously seemed to recover for the satisfied skip back inside.

"You're too soft on him, Dr. Mike… Ain't nothin' wrong with him…" Matthew observed, having witnessed Brian's instantaneous mood-swing.

"I know… he's just worried about going back to school. It won't last. Once he realizes that being ill means he has to spend the day in bed, he'll be back to school first thing tomorrow…" Michaela smiled, having finished loading various items into the wagon and heading back towards the homestead to assist Colleen with the breakfast dishes.

**X.O.X**

"So, today's the big day, then?" Loren seated himself comfortably in the red velvet chair, Jake lathering some soap on the small brush and applying it to Loren's chin and neck.

"Well if what Dorothy's sayin' is true it sure looks that way… don't think it's gonna go too well, from what my customers been sayin'…" Jake reached across for the razor blade, leaning back over Loren cautiously.

"Mine too… people been sayin' they'd rather go see you than have Dr. Mike lay a finger on 'em… not so much the women… but the men… ya know…" Loren tried to soften his statement, remaining still as Jake brought the razor along his neck.

"Yeah… suppose I can understand and all… just seems a bit of a shame… all the work she put into gettin' people's trust and acceptance…And she's a good doctor," Jake reflected, Loren waiting until the barber turned to rinse off the razor before replying.

"Maybe doesn't have to be for nothin'… I'm sure if a few of the… influential men of this town got together… sure we could set an example… like Dorothy said." Loren mused, Jake once again returning the razor to his neck.

"What… you mean like you and me… go see her?" Jake frowned, although the idea continued to fester in his mind.

"Well, obviously not all at once or nothin'… just ya know… mean… my back's been a bit sore for a few weeks now… wouldn't do no harm to stop by later on today." Loren sighed, somewhat hesitantly, however realizing there was some truth to Dorothy's statement. And after all, Loren Bray felt he carried substantial weight in the small town; people would take their lead from him.

Jake finished Loren's shave, immersing the sharp razor into the nearby bowl of alcohol.

"I ain't got no complaints, though… why should I go see her?" Jake removed the cape from around Loren's neck, the elderly man handing him the two bits and rising to his feet, a hand stroking his chin, pleased with his shave.

"Coz it'd show people even respectable men like us… don't have no problem with her. 'Sides I gotta do something to get Olive and Dorothy off my back…" Loren patted Jake's shoulder in gratitude, the younger man considering his words as Horace entered the shop, taking a seat in front of him.

"Just when you thinkin' a stoppin' by, Loren?" Jake looked up as the store owner stepped into the doorway.

"After lunch, most like… remember, we gotta set an example…" Loren nodded with great dignity, Horace looking up with confusion at Jake as the cape was draped around his neck.

"What's this about settin' an example?" Horace, relaxing back into the chair inquired.

"Ah, Loren's got it into his head we oughta be listenin' to what Dorothy said yesterday," Jake replied, still not entirely convinced, however proceeding to relay the previous conversation to the telegraph operator as he commenced the shave.

**X.O.X**

"I really gotta stay in bed all day, Ma?" Brian whined, as the pair stepped into the Clinic, Michaela quickly directing the young boy upstairs as Matthew brought in several boxes of medical supplies from the wagon.

"Have to stay in bed, Brian, and yes… if you're sick, you'll stay in bed… Otherwise… the schoolhouse is just down that way…" Michaela smiled tantalizingly, her hand gestured towards the window facing the main street.

"All right… Hey Ma… think Sully'll take us swimmin' again next weekend?" Brian, who had turned towards the corridor, saw the opportunity for conversation and edged back across the room to Michaela's side.

"That, is up to Sully… now up to bed, young man…." Michaela rolled her eyes, Brian's manipulative skills having increased the past several days.

"But… you'll come read me a story later, won't ya?" Brian lowered his head, arriving at the corridor to hang his arms on the doorframe playfully.

"… Possibly…" Michaela smiled out of the corner of her mouth, Brian scurrying off upstairs immediately.

"That's everything, Dr. Mike… now I'll be at Olive's until about three, but you need anything… just have someone come fetch me…" Matthew hung awkwardly in the doorway, glancing around the room slowly as he began to remember the time he'd spent pacing around the porch the week before.

"Matthew, everything is going to be fine…" Michaela dismissed his concern, beginning to remove bandages and other freshly laundered linen from the boxes on the examination table in front of her.

Matthew nodded, his eyes moving from Michaela's competent exterior to the examination table she was working over, the young man unable to disregard the images flooding into his head concerning recent events. His eyes remaining focused on the examination table only ten feet away, Matthew could still see the silhouettes of his sister, Dorothy and Olive huddled around it. He could still see all the blood. Turning, as if to push the recollection back farther into his memory, Matthew strode towards the wagon, Michaela watching him depart without another word.

**X.O.X**

"Mornin', there, Horace. My, you certainly look like you're enjoyin' that…" Robert E. approached the tall, dark haired man from behind, watching intrigued as he scoffed down mouthful after mouthful of pie, unaware of the Blacksmith's presence.

"Horace?... Horace!" Robert E. chuckled, eventually tapping Horace on the shoulder to obtain his attention.

"Ah, oh… sorry about that…. Really works though…" Horace pulled the small piece of cotton wool from his left ear with a smile.

"What really works… hey, what's that?" Robert E. took a seat on his right, Grace approaching the pair, kissing Robert E. on the cheek as she filled two cups with coffee, before bustling off to attend to morning tea orders.

"Oh, cotton wool… see if I stick some in my left ear… like that… I… I can't hear outa it…" Horace smiled, breaking off the piece of cotton wool and pushing it back into his ear.

"Horace, I… ah… I know I ain't the smartest man in town… but ah… why'd you wanna go stickin' something like that in ya ear?" Robert E. watched as Horace returned his attention to finishing the piece of pie in front of him.

"Coza what Jake told me this mornin'…" Horace looked around suspiciously, gesturing for Robert E. to lean closer towards him.

"Said we gotta make Dr. Mike feel needed 'round here… said if couple of the more important men 'round town go to see her, will let everyone know we're standing by her comin' back to work an' all…" Horace sipped on his coffee, Robert E. shaking his head in bewilderment.

"Why of all the… so you're tellin' me that's why you're walkin' 'round with this stuff stuck in ya ear?" He raised an eyebrow, Horace nodding quickly.

"Am just about to go see her, right. Wanted to see if it worked. Does too.. can't hear nothin' outa that side…" Horace reached into his pocket, placing the money on the table in payment, before getting to his feet and making his way uneasily down the alleyway.

"Well, I never… of all the far-fetched, under-handed, scheming…" Robert E. muttered to himself, trailing off as he looked down at his right hand lying on the table in front of him, his fingers flexing in and out slowly.

"S'ppose it is gettin' a little sore…" He rubbed his stiff knuckles with his left hand, a soft smile broadening on his lips as he looked between his hand and Horace's departing form.

**X.O.X**

"Have you been removing any excess wax periodically, Horace?" Michaela sat him on the edge of the examination table, pacing across the room to carry her medical bag from the desk to the side of the bed.

"Ah… yes, Dr. Mike, sure have… ya see… I… I think that's what mighta happened… was cleaning them last night… think I mighta got a piece of cotton wool stuck in there or somethin'…" Horace adjusted his weight on the edge of the table nervously, deception never being something he felt comfortable with, however, if it was for the best…

"Now, just hold still…" Michaela located the tweezers after a moment, inserting them carefully into his left ear, remaining silent for several moments whilst she searched for any foreign objects.

"See anything?" Horace replied, somewhat loudly, as the cotton wool he'd poked in there back in the cafe, really was blocking the hearing in his left ear.

"Just a… ah… you were right, Horace…" Michaela responded triumphantly several moments later, displaying the tiny piece of compressed cotton wool on the edge of the tweezers.

"Aw, thank-you, Dr. Mike… that's much better…" Horace smiled knowingly, Michaela looking strangely between the minute ball of white packing and Horace's ear.

"You're very welcome, Horace… just, ah, be careful next time… and I'd suggest not using the cotton wool…" Michaela discarded the small material, dropping the tweezers into a bowl of alcohol on the bench.

"Oh… no… you said it, Dr. Mike… no more cotton wool, that's for sure…" Horace chuckled uncomfortably, handing her the money in payment, Michaela showing him to the door.

"Glad I could help…" Michaela smiled, watching with contentment as the telegraph operator stepped from the porch of the Clinic, ambling back down the street towards his office.

Michaela, closing the door after him, couldn't deny the satisfied smile crossing her lips, worried people around town would be avoiding her all day. Her mind was eventually pulled from daydream, sighing as she went upstairs to check on Brian.

Arriving in the doorway of the recovery room, Michaela raised an eyebrow in amusement as she noticed the bed sheet tied precariously to each end of the bed, Brian's head moving along underneath as he crawled up and down underneath the white sheet.

"And just what is all this?" Michaela chuckled, although knowing she should be chastising the boy for playing when he was supposedly ill.

"Made my own secret hideout… it's a cave, like what Sully showed me…" Michaela watched with intrigue as Brian crawled to the edge of the mattress, his head eventually poking out under the sheet.

"Ah… well, as exciting as it looks, I don't think all that rolling around is going to be too beneficial to that stomach ache of yours." Michaela, her hands grasped behind her back, arrived at the end of the bed, beginning to untie the knotted corners of the sheet.

"I… guess not…." Brian looked away from her, settling himself back against the pillows at the head of the bed, Michaela tucking the sheet back into the mattress around him.

"I was just about to go get us some lunch from Grace's… that is… if you're not feeling too ill to eat?" Michaela questioned, her mouth upturned with slight sarcasm.

"No… been feelin' a little better, Ma… maybe some food'll help build my strength up, though?" Brian tilted his head, Michaela ruffling his hair affectionately as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Well… all right then, you just stay in bed, I won't be long…" Michaela squeezed his hand, getting to her feet and heading back down the stairs.

**X.O.X**

"Here, Dr. Mike… I can take that…" Robert E. stepped on the porch, noticing Michaela leaving through the Clinic door, an empty basket from Grace's balanced in her left hand.

"Well… thank-you Robert E., if you're sure it's no trouble?" Michaela handed him the brown basket, the Blacksmith nodding hesitantly as he looked back down at his hand again.

"Oh… no… no trouble at all… I, ah, was just coming to see you actually… my hand been startin' to hurt again lately…" He rested the basket on the bench nearby, Michaela ushering him inside immediately.

**X.O.X**

"Afternoon, ah… Hank…" Loren looked up from his position, sitting on the middle of the bench outside the Clinic, as the bartender crossed the remainder of the road, cigar held habitually in his right hand.

"Can't say I expected to see anyone 'round here for awhile… not from what folk's been sayin' in my place…" Hank looked between the Clinic door and Loren's slightly uncomfortable expression.

"Well maybe folk's are in need of a little persuasion… after all, no reason we gotta lose a perfectly good doctor…" Loren, although initially confident in his decision to take Dorothy's advice and set a good example, was now beginning to feel a little apprehensive.

"Can't be serious, Loren… you really gonna let her… examine you?" Hank threw his cigar across into the nearby trough, flashing his friend a meaningful glare on his final two words.

"Well… just had a bit of a sore back, recently… ain't no exam needed… just get something for the pain, that'll be that." The store manager reassured himself, setting his jaw firm.

"That's what you think… get you in there a minute, she'll be wantin' to poke and prod you… no thanks…" Hank rested against the nearby post, shaking his head distastefully.

"Well, then that's my problem, ain't it? People start avoidin' seein' her just coza what's happened, we won't have no doc, and that'll be bad for business, won't it… for everyone…" Loren eyed Hank up deliberately, looking from the Saloon back to the bartender, Hank remaining thoughtful.

"Yeah… guess is handy havin' her 'round for the girls and all… customer's been happier since she's been takin' care of 'em… girl's been happier too, come to think of it." Hank stroked his small beard, reflecting on his words.

"Good for business all round, in my mind. 'Sides, people 'round here see the likes of prominent men like us ain't got no problem… sure will make things a lot easier." Loren appealed to Hank's sense of status, since his sense of decency had most definitely taken a vacation these last few weeks.

"Well… you put it like that…" Hank cleared his throat, taking a seat next to Loren as the door opened beside them.

"Thanks for that, Dr. Mike… 'ppreciate it…" Robert E. tipped his cap, smiling as he slipped the small bottle of medicine into his pocket.

"You just take it easy the rest of the day… come back and see me if the swelling doesn't abate within two days." Michaela squeezed his arm warmly, looking over his shoulder at the two men resting uneasily on the bench nearby.

"Will do, Dr. Mike… thanks again…" Robert E. nodded in gratitude, retrieving the basket from beside Loren and making his way back to Grace's.

"Loren… Hank… were you…?" Michaela frowned slightly, surprised at how inundated with patients she'd been over the last few hours.

"Ah… yes, Dr. Mike," Loren replied quickly, however too nervous to get to his feet.

"Well, who was next?" Michaela replied, looking between Hank's amused expression, the bartender quickly dropping his smile and feigning mild abdominal discomfort when he became aware of her glance.

"Loren was… weren't ya…" Hank patted the older man on the back, giving him no choice but to stand and follow Michaela inside the Clinic.

**X.O.X**

"Sure looks like you've been keepin' busy today, Dr. Mike…" Loren observed, whilst Michaela searched through the medicine cabinet across the room for the required herbal tea.

"Yes… must say I was a little surprised… but then, I suppose after a week, there would be a few more people than usual with assorted complaints…" Michaela ran her fingertips over several paper envelopes, eventually locating the one she was after.

"Guess that must be it, then…" Loren muttered, trying to sound genuine as he slipped his jacket back on, feeling thoroughly exposed and uncomfortable.

"Ah… here… now just stir a teaspoon into a cup of boiled water… make a tea. Try and drink at least three to four cups a day. Pain should subside within a week." Michaela handed Loren the small paper sachet, helping him off of the edge of the table.

"Right… ah… thank-you, Dr. Mike…" Loren quickly retrieved the dollar coin from his back pocket, just wanting to get back to the store, although unable to shake the sense of honor, knowing that he'd done the right thing in supporting her.

"Anytime… Loren!" Michaela reached quickly for his arm, noticing the unguarded way in which he turned around.

"Oh… ah…awww.." The gray-haired man quickly realized he'd turned too rapidly given the supposed severity of his back pain and compensated instantly, reaching awkwardly to rest his right hand on his hip.

"You… all right?" Michaela frowned worriedly, however slightly suspicious of the convenience of the immediate return of his discomfort.

"Yeah… I'll be… fine… just be gettin' back to the store…" He groused, dismissing her concern.

"No lifting or anything strenuous until the pain ceases, Loren…" Michaela reiterated, opening the door as they made their way out onto the porch, Hank startling slightly.

"Next…" Michaela clasped her hands together, ever so slightly wary of Hank's presence.

"Ah, Michaela… been havin' a bit of a pain…" Hank stumbled inside somewhat dramatically as Loren hobbled back towards the store, Michaela closing the Clinic door turning to observe her latest 'patient'.

"Where abouts?" She waited until Hank had settled himself on the examination table gingerly, before stepping closer towards him, watching as he indicated to the middle of his torso vaguely.

"'Round here… think it's something I ate…" Hank swallowed, preparing to gasp in exasperated agony when she gently began palpating his stomach.

"So… here?" Michaela looked competently from his stomach region to his anguished expression, moving her hands either side, checking his liver, spleen and appendix.

"Yeah… ah… thing is… got hungry late last night… know you said I shouldn't, but was eatin' some a that meat again… only a small bit mind…" Hank composed himself, Michaela nodding in receipt of his words.

"So, you think it might be food poisoning?" She returned her hands to his abdomen and pressed lightly.

"Yeah," he replied, not reacting when she pressed slightly harder against the middle of his stomach.

"When… ah… did you eat this…?" Michaela sighed, having caught on to Hank's bogus performance. She ran her hands slightly lower, palpating his left side, waiting for a response.

"Ah… bit last night... bit... this morn… ah!" He quickly cried out, realizing he hadn't shown any verbal distress in several minutes.

"So… you think it's definitely the meat, then?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, skeptically.

"Has to be, can't see what else… ah…" Hank groaned again, Michaela removing her hands, getting him to sit up.

"Hank, is this some sort of… joke?" She queried, crossing her arms confrontationally.

"Joke?… Michaela, I…" She cut him off sharply.

"You said the pain was in your stomach, then it wasn't, then you indicated the pain was in your appendix…" Michaela justified her skepticism, fighting the temptation to smile as Hank attempted to recover lost ground.

"Well… ah, it is… it is in my stomach…" He rested a hand with all sincerity over the right side of his torso.

"That's your liver, Hank." Michaela took a step backwards, watching as the bartender struggled in vain to maintain the performance.

"Oh… I, ah see… well maybe my stomach ain't where it is on most people…" He looked around the room, feeling thoroughly humiliated, however doing whatever he could in a frenzied attempt to save face.

"Get out of here, Hank…" Michaela sighed, gesturing towards the door, her expression mixed between wanting to burst out laughing and suspicion regarding the motivation behind his little routine.

Hank slipped from the edge of the table, having no choice but to saunter from the room, his gaze downcast in embarrassment.

**X.O.X**

"Come in?" Michaela looked up from the medical journal she was trying to concentrate on, hearing the bell to her left quickly drawing her attention.

"Ah, 'octor 'ike… ith my… my tooff… 'een 'urtin' bad 'ince 'out 'ine in the 'ornin'…" Jake stepped into the room, his right hand clutched protectively over the right side of his jaw.

Michaela, pausing to consider the extreme jump in patients for one day, got to her feet, approaching Jake with great compassion and sympathy, as she motioned for him to lie down on the examination table.

"This side, Jake?" Michaela positioned herself over Jake's head, thoroughly inspecting the right side of his mouth, deciding she would keep up the pretense as long as he could.

"'eah… the 'eft thide…" Jake removed his hand, opening his mouth wider, Michaela quickly reaching for a probe, inserting it into his mouth and tapping it lightly against each tooth in turn.

"'at…'at one…" He quickly deduced, Michaela nodding, impressed at his resolve.

"Yes, I can see exactly what the problem is there, Jake…" Michaela turned, unable to withhold the small smile momentarily crossing her face as she opened the chest of surgical instruments, quickly locating the dental forceps.

Returning to his side, Jake squirmed slightly, before feeling the coolness of the metallic instrument against the inside of his cheek, this proving enough to cause substantial objection.

"What… are you?" He pulled away slightly, horror filling his eyes.

"Afraid there's nothing I can do, Jake. The tooth needs to be extracted. Now hold still. It won't hurt that much…. trust me…" Michaela was unable to prevent the sparkle coming to her eyes, Jake now locked between honesty and the prospect of torturous pain.

"Yeah… you sure you really need to pull it… thought you'd just give me something for the pain." Jake spoke quickly, unaware he'd dropped his garbled accent as the sweat began to form around his forehead.

"It's too late for that… just lay still…" Michaela continued, resting a hand on his shoulder to steady him as she once again inserted the instrument into his mouth, locking it carefully around the aforementioned tooth.

Waiting several moments as Jake's panic grew, Michaela watched as he eventually closed his eyes, giving in to his self-determined fate. Allowing the smile to once again appear on her face, Michaela removed the metal forceps, standing over him, as he very hesitantly opened his eyes, looking at her in complete disbelief.

"You didn't…?" He studied her face carefully, noticing the amused smirk on her lips.

"Come on, I think we both know there's nothing wrong with your tooth… don't we?" Michaela watched as Jake pulled himself into a sitting position, wiping the sweat from his face, humiliation giving into relief as he continued to stare at her awkwardly.

"But I don't understand… how did you know?" He moved his jaw several times, running his tongue along the nearly-sacrificed tooth in reassurance.

"Because… there wasn't anything wrong with my tooth, neither…" Michaela raised her eyebrows, Jake taking several seconds to compute all the information and sequence of events he's just been put through.

"You mean… you let me pull a perfectly good tooth outa your head… just so's I'd let you treat my hand?" He calculated slowly, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"It worked, didn't it…" She gestured to their surroundings.

"I'll say… I… I'm sorry, Dr. Mike…we were just tryin' to… ah… make you feel like we still needed ya…" Jake hung his head reflecting over the events of the past few years.

"We?" Michaela let her mouth drop slightly, her suspicions regarding the validity of Horace, Loren and Hank's complaints being confirmed.

"Me and… Loren… and Horace… thought it'd make things easier for ya, if ya knew we… still wanted ya 'round town… like… so ya know everyone still needs ya…" Jake looked away, the genuineness and compassion in his voice something Michaela wasn't sure she'd ever heard before.

"I… I appreciate your… efforts Jake… but, you mean… all this was just…" Michaela reflected over the stream of patients she'd seen this morning, remembering the ball of cotton wool lodged in Horace's ear.

"Please don't be mad, Dr. Mike. No-one meant any harm… we were just tryin' to… show we don't care 'bout…" Jake returned his gaze downwards once again, trying to pass over the traumatic memories of her rescue invading his mind.

Michaela stood perfectly still, watching as Jake sat looking more uncomfortable than she did. Nodding slowly, she remained silent, surprised that she wasn't feeling angered by the humiliation or deceit.

"I… ah… won't take up any more of your time…" Jake lowered his feet to the ground, departing from the Clinic in utter silence, not so sure that Loren's plan had been that great an idea after all.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**X.O.X**

**Tuesday, 23****rd**** May, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Michaela, I don't know what to say… I had no idea after what I said, they'd dream up somethin' so humiliatin'!" Dorothy, her mouth wide in disbelief, rested her hands on the back of her editor's chair.

"Really, it wasn't that bad, Dorothy… quite funny when I think about it… Hank had everything from cirrhosis of the liver to appendicitis, and even then he still held it together…" Michaela laughed just remembering the events from the day before.

"Well, so long as you can laugh at it, guess there's no harm done…" Michaela and Dorothy turned with smiles on their faces as Brian sprinted into the store, his books dangling from the leather strap behind his shoulder.

"Hey Ma, hey Miss Dorothy!" He launched himself squarely towards Michaela, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly as he looked between each of the women.

"You have a nice day at school, Brian?" Dorothy queried, looking between the small boy attached firmly to his mother's side, before glancing up at Michaela questioningly, indicating Brian's pronounced clingy behavior.

"Yes, Ma'am… Reverend set a date for the auction… asked if you could print it in The Gazette… everyone's real excited… once we get the money, can start making costumes and sets and stuff…" Brian, still with his arms clutched around Michaela's waist, turned to peer awkwardly at the jars of candy across the room, not being able to justify leaving her side to approach them.

"Well, when's it going to be, Brian? I'll put a notice in the next edition." Dorothy bent down to obtain a portion of the boy's already divided attention.

"Ah… ah… three weeks on Saturday, Miss Dorothy… the seventeenth…" Brian answered her politely, before taking several steps away, deducing that if he kept a hand gripped to Michaela's skirt he wouldn't really be leaving her.

"I see…" Dorothy acknowledged Brian's information, before meeting eyes with Michaela suspiciously.

"This just started, Michaela?" Dorothy very subtly indicated Brian's slightly regressed and attached behavior.

Michaela nodded with a sigh, eventually turning and bending down to address the conflicted child.

"Brian, if you would like to get a bag of candy, you are going to have to cross the room… by yourself…" She gently plied his left hand from her skirt, watching as he nodded slowly and made his way quickly to the candy jars.

"Someone has been having a few problems at school … nightmares… should pass in a week or so…" Michaela smoothed her skirt back neatly, Dorothy looking from Brian back to her friend supportively.

"Yeah… think he's really been shook up by everything… let me know if you need me to watch him anytime… give you a break…" Dorothy suggested, Michaela smiling as Brian, a brown bag in his left hand, decided amongst the various forms of candy, with a seriousness as if his life depended on it.

"Thanks, Dorothy… Although Sully's been very good with them… especially on the weekend…" Michaela watched an awkward expression appear on Dorothy's face; she wanted to broach a subject but wasn't too sure how it would be received.

"So… he's been around?" The redhead looked between the floor and Brian's procrastination, before eventually meeting Michaela's eyes.

"Yes…" Michaela nodded, suddenly realizing Dorothy was trying to delicately inquire as to the status of their relationship.

The pair remained silent, neither wanting to continue the conversation, however neither knowing quite where to go from there, Brian eventually returning with his brown paper bag, candy balanced precariously, threatening to spill over the edge.

"Brian… that's enough to last you a week…" Michaela observed, although aware of how fond Brian was of candy, never having known him to be quite so superfluous before.

"Well, Taffy likes Taffy, Ma, had to get a bit extra for her… and this way I don't have to come back until the weekend." He looked pleadingly between the bag and his mother's disapproving expression, worried she'd make him return the excess sweets.

"All right… but we're putting that horse on a sugar-restricted diet…" Michaela smiled to Dorothy before making her way to the counter, Brian hovering by her side once again.

"That's all right, Ma… all the more for me," Brian replied as he handed the candy to Mr. Bray to assess.

"For someone who was complaining of a stomach ache only yesterday, there certainly doesn't seem to be any lasting effects…" Michaela ruffled his hair, although fully aware of the fictitiousness of his illness, a common theme running through the town the past twenty-four hours.

"Afternoon, Dr. Mike… that'll be thirty-five cents for the candy… and…" He continued pricing the assorted grocery items in her basket before looking up once again. "One dollar ten altogether…" Loren smiled shyly, Jake having informed him that morning of the failure of their little plan.

"Thank-you, Loren… how's your back by the way?" Michaela smiled, handing him the money and collecting the basket of groceries.

"Oh… ah… much better… ah… sorry about that…" Loren slipped the money into the cash box, shifting his gaze nervously.

"Quite all right… good day, Loren…" Michaela turned, nearly tripping over Brian as he struggled to maintain a single foot radius around her.

Dorothy joined Loren's side, eyeing him up and down mysteriously.

"Certainly kept that one quiet, Loren… knew I'd disapprove?" She queried, although the jest in her voice obvious.

"Thought we were helping, didn't we?" Loren shook his head, watching as Brian and Michaela joined Colleen who was waiting in the wagon outside.

**X.O.X**

"Please, Ma… you gotta do it… You gotta beat Benjamin's Ma…" Brian had been informing Michaela of the auction details for the entirety of their journey home, Colleen long since given up trying to distract him.

"I said I'll consider it, Brian," Michaela, her hands held loosely on the reins of the wagon, replied tiredly.

"All right…" Brian popped another piece of candy into his mouth as they slowed, having arrived back at the homestead.

All three climbed down from the wagon, Michaela grateful when Colleen offered to unbridle Bear and put him back in the barn.

"Ma… how long you gonna need 'fore you decide 'bout the auction?" Brian recommenced, as he and Michaela arrived on the porch and entered the homestead.

"Brian… I told you!" Michaela sighed, watching his face drop in fear in response to her emotional reaction.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I'll tell you when I have had a chance to think about it. Don't worry… I won't forget," Michaela rubbed her forehead, Brian scurrying into the homestead ahead of her.

Crossing the room to place her medical bag on the table, Michaela glanced around, relieved that Colleen had finished the dishes from breakfast that morning. Pulling off her coat and laying it across the end of her bed, Michaela sat on the edge of the mattress, rolling onto her side, still finding the long wagon rides uncomfortable.

"Ma… you all right?" Brian peered back around from the children's sleeping area after several moments, his voice concerned, however laced with apology.

"Fine, just a bit tired…" Michaela propped her head up in her right hand, Brian crossing the room to arrive at her side.

"Want me to go outside?" He whispered, his natural sensitivity shining through, although hoping she would refute his question.

"You don't have to, sweetheart… tell me more about school…" Michaela watched with drooping eyes as he paced around to the empty side of the bed, carefully climbing onto it and sitting up against the pillow next to her.

"Well… we had a spelling test… and I only got two words wrong… and that woulda been the best, but Colleen got 'em all right, so she won…." Brian drew a breath, continuing with his recount of the day.

"And then the Reverend started planning the play with us… and it's gonna be about these two guys who are both trying to get this girl to marry 'em… but the first guy he's really mean… like he drinks and doesn't treat her good or nothin'… but he's really rich and the girl kinda likes him… Then there's this other guy… He's not as rich and can't give her all the fancy presents or nothin'… but he's heaps more nice to her… and so they both…" Brian looked over about to finish the story, however noticing Michaela had fallen asleep next to him, her eyes dropped closed peacefully.

**X.O.X**

"Evenin'…" Sully, an animal carcass held awkwardly in his right hand, approached the homestead. Colleen and Brian were immersed in a game of checkers on the porch.

"Sully!" Brian replied excitedly, immediately forfeiting his game to arrive at his friend's side.

"Thought you might be wantin' this for supper… hope there's enough time to get it ready?" Sully looked between the afternoon sun and Colleen's grateful expression.

"Sure… we can have a later supper… why don't you and Brian go get it ready, I'll bring out a pan to the barn, and get started on everything else?" Colleen, picking up the checkers pieces and board suggested.

"Sounds good… Brian, wanna come give me a hand?" Sully suggested, the little boy looking unsurely between the front door of the homestead and the barn.

"Ah… all right…" He acquiesced, suddenly remembering his birthday present. "Yeah… I can help; look Sully!" Brian retrieved his small pocketknife from his trousers, displaying it proudly in front of him.

"Ya showed me last week, Brian… but I think it's great… might be a bit small though…" Sully chuckled, he and Brian arrived quickly in the barn, Sully propping the animal carcass on the wooden bench, the pair getting to work skinning and cleaning the animal.

**X.O.X**

"All done, Colleen…." Brian pushed through the back door, the tray balanced awkwardly in his small hands.

"Excellent… tell Sully it'll just be a couple of hours 'til it's cooked." Colleen slid the tray into the hot over, Michaela continuing with the vegetable preparation.

"Did you have a nice sleep, Ma?" Brian asked, arriving by her side to clean his hands in the bowl of water.

"Very… you two look like you've been busy out there…" Michaela watched as Brian soaked the blood from his fingers, the once clear white bowl of water soon reddening.

"Yup… helpin' Sully with the meat. Got supper all ready…" Brian finished, drying his hands and returned back out to the barn.

**X.O.X**

"Ma's awake, Sully… she's helpin' Colleen with supper…" Brian informed him dutifully, Sully almost having finished cleaning the wooden work bench clean.

"Won't be much longer here, then we can go join 'em…." Sully wrung out the rag in the nearby bucket of water, continuing to scrub the bench.

"Yeah… and you can tell Ma she can do the auction… you'll bid for her, won't ya, Sully?" Brian quickly delved into his current greatest topic of conversation.

"The what, Brian?" Sully paused, having only heard about three words of his sentence.

"The auction… see we're gonna be doin' a play at school… but we need to raise money for the costumes and stuff… and so Missy suggested that all the ladies do this auction… and the men get to bid for a chance to dance with 'em at Olive's… the auction's in three weeks Sully… but Ma won't tell me she'll do it… but she has to do it… otherwise Benjamin'll keep teasin' me…" Brian hung awkwardly onto the edge of the bench, balancing his weight as he leant backwards into a childlike contortion. Sully had stopped working several sentences ago, bending down to address Brian firmly, yet with compassion.

"Ah, Brian… something like that… ah… Dr. Mike might not feel too comfortable about the idea of gettin' up in front of all those people… So I don't want you to be too upset if she doesn't do it, ya hear?" He rested his hand on the boy's chest, Brian dropping his head miserably.

"But then Benjamin'll be able to keep teasin' me… coz he said Ma couldn't do the auction… but I said she could," Brian, not usually overly concerned with selfish motivations, had been deeply hurt by Benjamin Avery's cruel comments.

"Now you listen to me, Brian… it's not that Dr. Mike _can't_ be in the auction… it's just, it's up to _her_… She might just feel it's too soon… and whatever she decides, we gotta support her in that, understand?" Sully, his hands now placed on each of the young boy's shoulders, looked Brian directly in the eyes, waiting for him to acknowledge his statement.

"I guess so," Brian replied quickly, Sully not convinced.

"No, Brian… no guessin'. I mean it, whatever Dr. Mike decides you gotta respect that. Don't go buggin' her about it…" Sully knew how charmingly persistent the boy could be.

"Reckon that's why she yelled at me before? Coz I was buggin' her about it?" Brian dropped his head again, matching Sully's words with the incident several hours earlier.

"I'd say that'd do it, Brian. You gotta remember, Brian, what's happened… changes things. Dr. Mike ain't gonna enjoy people talkin' 'bout her all the time. She ain't gonna want to be the center of attention quite so much… lots a things gonna be different," Sully trailed of, realizing he was referring to more than just the townsfolk's reactions.

"You an' Ma still courtin' ain't ya?" Brian suddenly came to the realization that Sully had not been spending quite so much time around them as he had in the past.

"Well, don't know about that Brian… best let Dr. Mike and I worry about that…" Sully moved his eyes around the barn thoughtfully, hoping Brian would take the hint and drop the subject.

"But… I don't get it… don't ya like Ma anymore…" Brian looked worriedly at Sully, not understanding the complexity of the situation.

"Course I do, Brian… I'll always love your Ma… but just, maybe she doesn't like me anymore…" Sully sighed, looking through the door towards the homestead before meeting eyes with Brian once again.

"But she don't blame you for what happened, Sully… she told me…" Brian raised his eyebrows hopefully, certain that this would now clear up any confusion.

"Can't be too sure about anything, Brian… Let's go play ball for awhile…" Sully was about to stand up, more than ready to change the subject, when Brian's face took on a look of completely seriousness.

"No… trust me, Sully. Let's go ask her, come on…." Brian tugged on his arm quickly, Sully not managing to stop him before the small boy raced out through the barn door towards the homestead.

"Brian! No, Brian, wait!" Sully called desperately, having no choice but to follow when the blond-haired child disappeared back inside the homestead.

**X.O.X**

Michaela and Colleen both looked up instantly in response to the speed with which Brian bounded into the homestead.

"Ma… tell Sully you don't blame him for you gettin' hurt…" He announced quickly, Sully arriving behind him just quickly enough to catch the gist of his sentence.

Colleen turned immediately to face Michaela, the four remaining absolutely motionless for the next thirty seconds, Sully leaning forward to try and distract Brian.

"Brian, Sully knows I don't…" Michaela swallowed, her eyes fixed on the small boy, turning to glance at Sully only after she had completed her answer.

"See… so there's no reason you two can't go courtin' anymore… is there, Sully?"

Colleen noticing Michaela and Sully lock eyes, decided to physically remove Brian.

"Brian, we're going to go feed the chickens… Now…" she ordered, pulling him outside by the shoulder of his vest.

Sully waited until the children had closed the door behind them, crossing the room until he was only several feet from Michaela, who had dropped her head back to the vegetables she'd been preparing for supper.

Raising her head as she felt him near her, Michaela was aware of the hairs on the back of her neck rising, the air escaping through her slightly opened mouth, as she brought her eyes up the remaining small distance to meet with his once again.

"Sorry about Brian… he… ah… doesn't understand…" Sully cleared his throat, although not breaking their glance.

"Can't expect him to, really," Michaela replied quickly, starting to feel that if she didn't force herself to breath soon, she'd pass out.

"Think it's best he knows we're friends though," Sully continued nervously, assuming that they were still at least that.

"Yes…" Michaela blinked, her body breathing again out of pure involuntarily reaction.

"So… ah… need any help here?" Sully quickly turned back to the assortment of vegetables beside them.

"Colleen was just finishing the potatoes, maybe you could…" Michaela gestured to the potatoes still waiting to be peeled and cut up, Sully quickly nodding and reaching for the small knife beside the chopping board, the pair continuing with dinner preparation in silence, despite both musing over the words spoken only minutes before.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**X.O.X**

**Friday, 26****th**** May, 1869**

_**Three Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Maaaaaaa! Maaaaaaa!" Michaela was torn from what had been a deep and relaxed sleep by the sound of Brian's terrified ear-piercing screams coming from across the room. Sitting up as Brian ran across the room, Michaela soon felt him land on the mattress next to her, his face drenched with tears, clinging to her arm as he tried to speak.

"Sweetheart… what?" Michaela looked down at him slowly, rubbing his back as he buried his head in her chest, his body wracked with sobs.

Colleen appeared across the room, having been woken by Brian's cries moments before, Michaela quickly reassuring her and indicating for the young girl to return to bed.

"Another bad dream, Brian?" Michaela queried, the boy's crying slowly abating although his body still shaking in fear. Leaning back, he nestled against her side, Michaela draping the quilt over him to prevent him getting cold.

"There… there was a train, Ma…" He began, taking a breath before continuing.

"There was this train… and I was running… but it was going faster and faster and I couldn't keep up…" Brian's breathing was heavy, although the tears had stopped falling from his eyes.

"I don't understand, Brian… you like trains…" Michaela tilted her head downwards, her hand running along his upper arm in an effort to calm him.

"I didn't know why I was running at first… I just knew I had to… then… then when I almost reached the train, I could see you, Ma…" Brian swallowed, wiping the moisture from his face with the back of his hand.

"I was on the train?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, trying to follow Brian's recounting of the nightmare, however failing to see why it had caused him such distress.

"Yeah… you… were leavin' us, Ma… you were goin' away… and I couldn't keep up… I was running… and you were gettin' farther and farther away…" Brian kept his fingers tightly gripped to the sleeve of Michaela's nightgown, looking back down at the bedspread as images from his nightmare continued to haunt him.

"Brian… you don't have to worry about anything like that…" Michaela tried to comfort him, however aware of the expression of pure fear etched across his face. Simple reassurance wasn't going to get him back to sleep.

"Ma…I… I'm scared I'll have another bad dream…" Brian's jaw trembled, Michaela acutely aware of the genuineness of his desperation on this occasion.

"I know… would you like a story?" Michaela suggested, any selfish desire for sleep quickly diminishing upon noticing the petrified look on Brian's face.

"What kinda story?" Brian pulled the quilt up higher, Michaela securing the spare pillow behind his back, trying to think.

"Well… when we were little… your Aunt Marjorie and I used to fight all the time…she thought that Father liked me more than her…" Michaela felt a smile come to her lips remembering the event she was describing, as she looked down to ensure she had Brian's attention.

"Is she the oldest?" Brian, his eyebrows raised in intrigue queried.

"No, Rebecca is the eldest, Marjorie is four years older than me…" Michaela answered the child's question before continuing.

"And so this particular day, I was a little younger than you are now… Marjorie was very angry at me… Father had bought us all new dresses for a party we were to be attending the following week, and Marjorie decided that mine was prettier than hers..." Michaela looked down, Brian snuggly resting against her, his face turned upwards slightly to glance at her every now and then.

"So… later that night… she crept into my room… when everyone was asleep… and she cut my hair… awfully short… only a bit longer than yours…" Michaela stroked his fair hair softly, Brian gasping slightly in disbelief.

"Weren't you mad?" He asked, looking between her long hair falling over her shoulders and her face for a response.

"Well… when I woke up the next morning I was… You should have seen it! It was certainly too short for a girl to have… and there were pieces hanging everywhere…" Michaela drew a breath, Brian quickly cutting her off.

"So what'd ya do? Did Aunt Marjorie get into heaps of trouble?" Brian remained captivated by the anecdote.

"As I said, I was furious at first… but then Mother had one of our chambermaids... fix it a little… and I really rather liked it. I wasn't keen on having to dress up and look pretty like my sisters, and I thought it made me look more like a boy… which my Mother was horrified at…" Michaela stopped as Brian opened his mouth to question something once again.

"You mean you wanted to look like a boy? Why?" the small boy giggled lightly, trying to picture his mother at that age.

"Well, because in Boston back then, boys were the ones who had all the fun… They were able to study science and mathematics and were allowed to have discussions and opinions. Little girls had to play with dolls, cook and learn to sew…" Michaela felt herself cringe at the mere memory.

"What happened to Aunt Marjorie?" Brian picked up quickly, still enthralled in the story.

"It took almost a day to realize it was her that had done it, she'd sworn Rebecca, Maureen and Claudette into secrecy, however Rebecca went to Father that night and informed him that Marjorie had collected all the hair and stored it in a drawer in her room… so she was sent to her room alone for the week and wasn't allowed to attend the party, either… She was so sore at me… having expected that I would have been angry with her… Don't think she's ever forgotten about it… it had the complete opposite effect she'd desired; Father doted on me even more and bought me fancy ribbons and bows until my hair grew to a more appropriate length… That's when he gave me my nickname, too…" Michaela watched as Brian quickly deduced her meaning.

"Dr. Mike?" He responded instantly, Michaela's smile almost breaking into a chuckle.

"Mike…" Michaela corrected, although slightly chuffed by the idea that Brian assumed she'd been a doctor since the age of ten.

"So that's why everyone calls you Dr. Mike here then?" He added, Michaela noticing that the story had managed to calm him down somewhat.

"Exactly…" Michaela finished, gazing around the completely silent homestead, her smile dropping after several seconds.

"Ma? We gonna go see Grandma again soon?" Brian, who had been remembering their recent trip to Boston the year before, asked hopefully.

"We'll see, Brian… are you feeling any sleepier yet?" Michaela yawned, pulling her mind quickly from thoughts of Boston and her family, to the fact that it was probably the early hours of the morning by now.

"No… tell me another story?" Brian asked eagerly, rearranging the pillow behind his back.

"How about… you tell me a story, Brian?" Michaela suggested disparagingly, aware that Brian did not seem to be as traumatized from his nightmare as he had been.

"You ain't gonna fall asleep again, are ya?" The young boy frowned slightly, catching on to Michaela's strategy instantly.

Michaela, slightly disappointed that her tactic had been discovered, sat up further against the pillows, forcing herself to stay awake.

"Promise," she replied sincerely. Brian paused for several moments to recall his narrative.

"Think it was when I was four or five… but it was before Miss Abigail died… anyway… I was stayin' at the store with Mr. Bray and weren't anyone coming in… so he was lettin' me brush his hair… and I was bein' really silly about it… and the brush got all caught up in his hair… he had heaps more hair back then, Ma… so we couldn't get the brush out and we tried and tried… and then Miss Abigail had to cut the top of his hair to get the brush out… and it left like this hole in his hair… and it ain't never grown back since…" Brian concluded, dropping his head in mock shame, however giggling quietly under his breath.

"So you had fun with Mr. Bray before his wife died?" Michaela rested her arm around Brian's shoulders, smiling at his naïve contentment.

"Uh-huh… was mainly before Miss Abigail died though… he's always been real grouchy since then… Then just was worse when Mrs. Bray died too…" Brian informed his mother knowledgably.

"I see… it's hard when we lose people we love, suddenly, isn't it…" Michaela speculated, knowing Brian would agree.

"Yeah… but if you're lucky… you get to find other people…" The young boy confirmed, Michaela deciding she would attempt once again to see if he would settle.

"Brian… it is awfully late… we probably should try and get back to sleep…" Michaela suggested, praying he'd take the hint from her intermittent yawning.

"Well… can I stay?" He snuggled down further into the pillow on her left side.

"If you go to sleep… and this is not going to become a habit, Brian…" Michaela knew she shouldn't be permitting such dependency, however was too tired to refuse the child's understandable request.

"Night Ma…" Brian closed his eyes, Michaela resting her head back on the pillow beside him.

"Night, sweetheart," she replied, falling back to sleep the instant her eyes had shut.

**X.O.X**

"Dr. Mike?" Sully cleared his throat, taking the seat beside her at the café, surprised when she didn't respond. Now able to see her face, cupped in her left hand, Sully smiled, noticing that her eyes were dropped closed, her right hand resting weakly around the fork next to her on the table.

"Michaela…" He tried again, hoping that he'd be successful on a second attempt.

Her shoulders rose tensely and eyes immediately sprung open, she sat back, turning slightly dazed to realize it was Sully who had woken her.

"Mornin'… nice sleep?" He smiled, nodding to Grace in gratitude when she brought him a fresh cup of coffee, refilling Michaela's also.

"I didn't?" she replied, somewhat embarrassed, quickly looking around to ensure no-one else had seen her.

"'Fraid so…" He eyed the uneaten piece of blueberry pie in front of her with intense desire.

"Brian's been having nightmares this past week… Last night he ended up so terrified he couldn't sleep for the next three hours…" Michaela reached forward to take several sips of the strong black coffee that had been freshly poured.

"I see… anything specific or just the general kind?" Sully, recalling Cloud Dancing's advice concerning dreams queried, once again looking between the slice of pie and Michaela's drained expression.

"Seems to be me, actually…" Michaela noticed Sully's preoccupation with the food in front of her, quickly pushing the plate towards him.

"Thanks," Sully quickly dug the fork into the piece of pie, picking up from Michaela's last phrase. "You?" He queried, the word muffled as he began chewing on his first mouthful.

"Yeah… that I've died… or left him…" Michaela continued, watching with silent awe as Sully devoured the large slice of pie within three mouthfuls.

"Cloud Dancin' would say that dreams are the spirits telling us of the past… or the future," Sully replied, although quickly following his thought through and regretting it.

Michaela took several moments longer to process his words, turning to him in unimpressed shock.

"What are you saying, that I'm going to die?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, Sully's jaw dropped, as he furiously attempted to rephrase his previous statement, both however, being drawn from their concerns by Jake's urgent call from the street.

"Dr. Mike! Dr. Mike!" Michaela and Sully rose immediately, running up the alleyway beside the Clinic, being greeted by a crowd of townspeople surrounding a wagon.

"You gotta hurry, Dr. Mike… one of Olive's ranchers… got trampled… he's hurt bad…" Jake, his breathing strained, arrived by the wagon, Dr. Mike and Sully by his side.

"Help me…" Michaela turned to Sully instantly, he assisting her to perch awkwardly on the back of the wagon, pulling at the young man's shirt and beginning to assess his injuries.

"When did this happen?" Michaela looked around, Olive having arrived at the foot of the wagon by this time.

"'Bout… bout half an hour ago… got here quick as we could… was awake up until 'bout five minutes ago.

"He's got several fractured ribs… most likely internal bleeding…" Michaela began to palpate the man's abdominal cavity, relieved when the cowboy started to regain consciousness.

"Just lie still… you're badly injured… we're going to take you inside…" Michaela reassured the young man, continuing to carry out her preliminary examination.

"Get your hands, off a me…" The cowboy quickly took in his surroundings, moving against Michaela's touch.

"Just relax, I know it hurts… I just have to see where the damage is…" She attempted to calm him down, Jake, Olive, Loren and Sully moving in closer, the other townspeople trying to observe from a distance.

"I… I…mean it… don't want no injun whore touching me… get her off a me, I tell ya, get her off!" The young, blond-haired cowboy continued squirming from Michaela's side, despite being in agonizing pain.

Michaela, her hands falling away from the boy's torso to her lap, looked up speechless, meeting eyes with Jake Slicker of all people. Sully, barely aware of his actions, mounted the other side of the wagon, looking as if he was physically going to attack the boy. Jake, resting a hand on Sully's shoulder quickly to calm him, leant over towards the cowboy his voice gruff and defensive.

"Now you listen, Jeff… you're gonna die lessin' you let Dr. Mike treat you… so just keep that shut!" The barber pointed his right hand squarely at the boy's mouth, Jake's eyes narrowed in deadly seriousness.

Michaela, too nervous by that stage to continue, crawled uneasily to the end of the wagon, slipping slowly to the ground, turning to address Jake.

"Get him inside… I'll… give him something for the pain, until I can examine him properly." Michaela brushed her hands against her skirt, more as an excuse to avoid the uncomfortable glances from the townspeople.

Jake took control, organizing for the boy to be carried into the Clinic, Sully arriving by Michaela's side, looking between the slowly dispersing crowd to Michaela's impassive expression. Approaching her very slowly, he waited until she was aware it was just the two of them, her head still lowered, her fingers clasped against her waist in front of her.

"Michaela… don't listen to him… it ain't true what he said…" Sully dropped his eyes, waiting for Michaela to acknowledge his words.

She looked between the tips of her fingers idly fidgeting with her belt buckle back down to the ground, before eventually returning her gaze upwards, however not meeting Sully's eyes.

"You know it is true…" Sully could barely hear the words pass her lips, their meaning not sinking in until Michaela had crossed the short distance to the Clinic porch. Sully sighed, noticing Michaela take a deep breath, disappearing inside away from his view.

He stood, looking around the street, watching as people resumed their previous activities, Sully unable to shake two thoughts from his mind: _She truly thinks I believe that? She believes it about herself?_


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Michaela dried her hands quickly on the nearby towel, closed the lid of the instrument case, and glanced around the room, checking that everything had been returned to its proper place.

"Dr. Mike?" Sully tapped lightly on the door behind her before entering, ensuring they were alone.

Michaela turned, an eyebrow raised in inquiry, Sully closing the door, however remaining at an awkward distance.

"Was there something you wanted?" She was at a loss as to his presence, her patience being tested by his continued silence.

"Want to talk to you 'bout before…" Sully moved to the other doorway, leading to the corridor, making sure more thoroughly that no-one was around.

Michaela remained silent, however quickly busied herself collecting the dirty gauze and cloths from around the room, before pulling the top sheet from the examination table, piling it together with the other items that required laundering.

"Dr. Mike… I… before… what you said…" Sully was unable to determine how to obtain her attention, for a month ago he merely would have rested a hand on her arm.

"I really have to finish this before the children are dismissed from school…" Michaela continued refitting the crisp white sheet to the examination table, looking around the room desperately for her next task.

"You are finished…" Sully gestured to the spotless room surrounding them.

Michaela idly smoothed the sheet out in front of her, now at an utter loss for an excuse.

"I just… didn't want you thinkin' what was said out there was true… You know that's just some lad don't know any better… you know nobody really believes it… Dr. Mike?" Sully watched as she fussed over the corners of the sheet around the table, with no intention of responding to his words.

Crossing the room several paces, Sully was only several feet from her, when she turned, quickly, taking a step backwards, away from him.

"I… sorry… please… just talk to me…" Sully managed to meet her eyes, Michaela at least not looking away this time.

"If you'll excuse me, I've a patient to check on…" Michaela repeated after a beat, Sully not convinced she had even heard his words. Standing stationary in the middle of the examination room, Sully followed her every movement with his eyes, until she had once again disappeared into the corridor.

Hearing Michaela's evenly-paced footsteps as she ascended the stairs, Sully raised his head, titling it backwards slightly as he gazed up at the ceiling, trying to combat the helplessness welling up inside of him.

**X.O.X**

**Monday, 29****th**** May, 1869**

_**Three Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"We won't be disturbed here… Think Benjamin's learnt his lesson…" Becky gestured to a thick green patch of grass behind the schoolhouse, she and Colleen taking sitting down quickly, taking out their lunches to eat.

"Yeah… he certainly has been on his best behavior, ain't he? Don't think Brian coulda taken much more…" Colleen stared at the sandwich held in her right hand, breaking small pieces of the crust off unenthusiastically.

"He's sure been quiet these last few days… not raisin' his hand… not even wantin' to help with the play, neither…" Becky began chewing on her sandwich, waiting for Colleen to respond.

"He's been havin' bad dreams… keeping everyone up every second or third night... actin' out… bein' a right pest…" Colleen hated to speak badly of her younger brother, however was quickly tiring of his tantrums and clinginess.

"That coza Dr. Mike?" Becky frowned, Colleen continuing to pick at her lunch.

"Guess so… won't leave her side, won't listen to a word I say… I try to get him to do something… runs straight to Dr. Mike… acting like he's the only one who's findin' it tough…" Colleen sighed, glancing over at Becky for reassurance before taking the first actually bite from her sandwich.

"What does Dr. Mike, say?" Becky questioned, seeing the exhaustion in Colleen's eyes.

"She's lettin' him get away with it! Even though he knows exactly how to worm his way 'round her… I don't get it! She never used to be that soft on him… readin' to him… tellin' him stories until all hours of the night… even lettin' him sleep with her…" Colleen shook her head in exasperation, beginning to feel thoroughly taken for granted.

Becky raised her eyebrows slightly, never having thought of Dr. Mike as an easy parent, and certainly not over the past few weeks.

"I woulda thought she'd be tougher on you all… like… I dunno in a bad mood all the time or something…" Becky pondered, trying to reconcile Colleen's depiction with her own expectations and that of her family.

"Nah… more just fussin' over Brian all the time… tryin' to do too much… she's just pretty quiet mainly… Not really what I thought… thought she'd be cryin' and stayin' in bed and… I dunno…" Colleen lowered her head, her thoughts divided between needing someone to talk to and not really wishing to dwell on the horrendousness of the matter.

"Maybe you oughta talk to Miss Olive or… someone… see if they can help?" Becky reached for Colleen's left hand, sincere in her loyalty if not overly helpful.

"Maybe… just feel like… like somethin' ain't right…" Colleen breathed out very slowly, her tiredness evident in the sinking of her shoulders.

**X.O.X**

**Thursday, 1****st**** June, 1869**

_**Four Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Didn't I tell the pair a ya to leave well enough alone… you're telling us men not to banter amongst ourselves and here ya all are, doing the same exact thing…" Loren, his hands rested securely on his hips, approached Dorothy, Olive and Grace in the corner of the store, the three huddled together under the guise of leafing through recipe books.

"Ain't the same thing at all, Loren… we're showing concern…" Dorothy defended quickly, slipping the recipe book back onto the shelf, now that their little diversion had been discovered.

"Showin' concern… meddlin' more like…" Loren muttered under his breath, turning back to rearrange stock on the shelves.

"So we absolutely certain she still ain't said a word to nobody?" Olive queried, looking between Grace and Dorothy, her eyes moving sharply.

"Like a said… nothin' since before Dr. Cassidy was here… when I tried to ask her couple of weeks ago she nearly took my head off… Said she 'wanted to go on with her life, like it didn't happen'…" Dorothy quoted Michaela's words precisely, as only a journalist could.

"That's Dr. Mike, all right… just like her to keep everything all bottled up… maybe it's time for us to… take matters into our own hands?" Olive contemplated, Grace looking across at her doubtfully.

"I ain't so sure about that… that's just some folk's way of coping… if she don't wanna talk… then ain't right us trying to make her… 'Sides I'm more worried about those children… Colleen's got nobody helpin' her with chores or nothin' and little Brian…" Grace trailed off, Dorothy quickly picking up from her.

"Brian's been clutching to her like a bee to honey… Maybe Grace's got a point... poor boy's been havin' nightmares, missin' school… Michaela's probably just too busy frettin' over him… she'll come 'round… 'sides Olive… you of all people oughta know, she'll just push against us harder we try and make her face somethin' she ain't ready to…" Dorothy gave Olive a slightly sly look.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Olive frowned, her left hand instinctively going to her side in confrontation.

"Oh, please, you're just as stubborn as Michaela… if you're that desperate to make her talk… you do somethin' 'bout it…" Dorothy nodded, her face quickly melting into a curt, yet polite smile, as she departed from the pair.

"She _told_ you…" Grace returned, placing just enough edge on the second word, so as to remove any harshness from her statement.

Olive remained where she was, Grace pacing towards the counter to pay for her groceries. Olive's face stayed slightly aghast for several moments, a mistake of shock and contemplation plastered across it.

**X.O.X**

Michaela, her head propped up in her right hand, blinked, attempted to read the same sentence for the third time in a row, still not comprehending it. Although having seen a few patients that morning, she'd soon run out of cleaning and reorganizing chores, trying to absorb herself in a newly arrived medical textbook.

Idly flicking the page between the index finger and thumb of her left hand, Michaela realized trying to distract herself in something she had no interest in, was not going to work. Reflecting on the last few hours, Michaela found herself concerned with Brian's continual nightmares, not knowing how best to help him. That morning had been an eventful one; Brian searching once again for any small, trivial reason to avoid attending school. Although managing to get him into town, Brian had physically opposed Matthew's attempts to remove him from Michaela's side, the young boy kicking wildly at his brother as he was lowered from the wagon to the soft, green grass of the meadow.

Despite there being little in the way of psychiatric literature, Michaela crossed the room, beginning to sort through the array of journals and books before finding one she thought might be of benefit. Taking a seat delicately once again, Michaela was just about to open the book when the Clinic door flew open beside her, causing her to startle and the book fall heavily to the desk below.

"Michaela… you gotta come quick…" Hank caught his breath quickly, the look of unmitigated fear in his eyes drawing her immediately to her feet, fetching her medical bag from the examination table as she rushed behind him out onto the main street.

"What's happened?" She tried to question, one hand grasping her bag, the other keeping her skirt raised just enough to avoid tripping on it as she ran behind the bartender to the porch of the Saloon.

"One of my girls… Suzie…" He trailed off, Michaela slipping through the French doors into the Saloon, Hank directing her frantically to the corridor at the rear, Michaela noticing the assortment of men and girls crowded around.

"Clear off! Ain't nothin' to see here!" Hank bellowed, helping Michaela advance her way through the crowd, Myra in the ajar doorway waiting for her.

"Oh, Dr. Mike… you gotta do something… she's all cut up like…" The petite brown-haired woman grabbed the physician's arm, pulling her into the room, Michaela barely having time to catch her breath as she was confronted with the disturbing scene before her.

Suzie, a young woman of a similar age to Myra, however with striking blond hair, lay, barely moving on her bed. Blood ran from a nasty cut on her forehead, a split lip, and what was left of her clothing, was torn and stained with drops of blood from her mouth and head.

"Had this fella, said he seemed real aggressive, like, but he'd paid Hank so she didn't have no choice…" Myra reached her friend's beside, trying to comfort the traumatized young woman.

Michaela stood motionless for several seconds, longer than she needed to take in the extent of the girl's physical injuries, her eyes drifting from the assortment of clothing strewn around the floor and bed, to the bruising appearing on Suzie's upper arms and left cheek.

"Dr. Mike…?" Myra's simple call was enough to draw Michaela to the side of the bed, immediately attending professionally to the girl, placing a compress firmly over her forehead.

"Suzie… Suzie… you gotta show Dr. Mike your chest…" Myra prompted, Suzie moving her hand slightly, in indication, towards her torn chemise.

Michaela gingerly leant across the girl to push the remnants of the garment from her shoulder, feeling her stomach drop and her hands go numb as her eyes locked onto the deep lacerations and scratches covering the woman's upper body.

"He… cut her, Dr. Mike…" Myra added, her words communicating disbelief as opposed to confirming what was a more-than-obvious fact.

Drawing an effortful breath, Michaela began dabbing the blood from Suzie's chest, able to determine that the lacerations were not as severe as first expected and therefore did not require suturing.

"Is it bad, Dr. Mike?" Myra asked, an arm resting on Suzie's shoulder as Michaela checked that the bleeding to the young woman's forehead had ceased.

"She'll be all right, Myra," Michaela replied briskly, satisfied that the damage to Suzie's chest was also relatively superficial.

Reaching across to her bag once again, Michaela applied some rubbing alcohol to the end of a fresh cloth, and brought it to Suzie's lip, gently disinfecting the area.

"Sorry… I…" Michaela tried to comfort the girl, who whimpered under her breath at the sensation of the burning substance against her raw skin. Sighing as she continued wiping the blood from the girl's face, Michaela focused her mental efforts on remaining detached, pushing away once again at the recollections infiltrating her conscious thought.

"You're shaking, Dr. Mike…." Myra leant forward to brush her arm tenderly, seeing Michaela's eyes narrow in desperate frustration, forcing herself to complete treating her patient's injuries.

Michaela, dismissing Myra's comment in frustration, struggled to focus her attention on the task before her, although after several minutes had managed to clean most of the blood from the young woman's chest and face.

"That's it, ain't it Suzie? He didn't hurt ya any place else?" Myra pushed her friend's hair back off her face, the young woman's strength returning enough to push herself to the edge of the bed.

"No, I'm all right… was just the shock more," Suzie replied, looking between Myra and Dr. Mike before standing slowly and crossing the room, opening a dresser drawer to find a change of clothes.

"She all right to get dressed, Dr. Mike?" Myra, relieved at the reduced seriousness of her friend's injuries, turned to the physician, frowning slightly when she saw the blood drained from Michaela's face.

"Are you all right, Dr. Mike?" Myra became aware of Michaela's slightly dropped glance, staring down at her bloodstained hands.

Hearing her name, Michaela, quickly turned in Myra's direction, her response slow, her voice wavering.

"She'll… just need to take it… easy for a few days… fortunately the… damage is only superficial…" Michaela, her anxiety rising instantly within her, reached for her medical bag, trying to find a clean cloth for her hands.

"Dr. Mike… I… I can stay with her… if you wanna step outside for a moment…" Myra saw the agitated expression creep over Michaela's face as she began furiously wiping the smeared blood from her palms and fingertips.

"I… I'll just…" Michaela, looked up, her eyes meeting Myra's, aware of the petrified tears welling in her eyes. Standing and fleeing quickly into the corridor, Michaela closed the door behind her, unaware of her location until she felt her head lean back against the solid wall of the corridor.

She knew she couldn't fall apart. Her breath held in her lungs for the longest time whilst she allowed her eyes to drop closed. Michaela hadn't realized she had company until she heard a man clear his throat only several feet from her.

Her eyes reopening with a flash, Michaela pushed herself from the wall, recognizing the longhaired man who had now arrived by her side.

"She's… ah…. Going to be fine…" Michaela sufficed, Hank nodding, however bringing his arms slowly from behind his back rather than replying.

"Ain't her I'm worried 'bout…" His voice was soft, Michaela trying to avoid making eye contact; however, Hank, like Sully, had a piercing glare that was inescapable.

Michaela was only able to avoid Hank's glance by staring at the two objects gripped securely in his hands. Swallowing awkwardly, she looked blankly from the empty shot glass, to the bottle of whiskey, before returning her eyes to Hank's, his expression one of non-judgmental and empathetic support. Michaela blinked several times, trying to compose herself aware of the liquid pouring into the small glass.

"I…" Michaela drew another strained breath, trying to refuse the offer. Hank took a single step towards her, his right hand outstretched, the glass arriving only inches in front of her. The words that fell from his lips were simple; precise; the bartender managing to convey more understanding and friendship in three words than Michaela would have ever thought possible.

"Just… drink it…"


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Michaela looked away from the offering immediately, Hank's words lingering in her head. Trying to distract herself by picking at the drying blood around the edges of her fingernails, Michaela soon found her teeth gnawing lightly on her lower lip, the violence of her gestures increasing as she frantically struggled to remove the redness from her fingers.

In a desperate attempt to shield the trembling of her jaw and the glistening of her eyes, Michaela lowered her face, once again noticing the small glass only inches from her gripped hands.

"Michaela… ain't no-one gonna know, I swear…" Hank's voice was dull, slightly hoarse, the bartender was not accustomed to speaking in such a soft tone. Michaela looked up at him, her breath caught in her throat, her vulnerability completely exposed.

Hank turned away to glance downwards, feeling the glass removed from his outstretched hand. His head still lowered, Hank could hear her swallow the whiskey, however he did not look up again until the object was returned to his grasp.

Michaela dropped her hands in front of her, feeling the potent liquid still burning her lips. She brought a hand quickly to her left eye, wiping away the tears threatening to spill over.

Still not daring to look at her, Hank refilled the glass. Again he extended his arm forward, locking his eyes on the transparent object, skeptical as to whether she would take it once again.

Michaela frowned, certainly not expecting him to offer her another glass. Looking away, she took several steps back towards the door she'd just exited from, realizing she didn't want to go back in there. She couldn't. She didn't want to see Suzie; didn't want to see the fear, shock and pain on the girl's face, as if mirroring what she held secluded behind her own eyes. Michaela began to feel incredibly trapped; not wanting to leave and risk being seen in such a distressed state, however unable to muster the strength to return to her patient.

Leaning back against the wall once again, Michaela looked Hank up and down, curious as to his total disregard for her presence. Her head moving between the corridor leading out to the Saloon, full of rambunctious noisy men, and the closed door leading to the injured girl's room, Michaela dropped her gaze, her eyes catching the blotches of dried blood still discoloring the palms of her hands. Running her hands along the sides of her royal blue skirt, Michaela knew the metaphoric gesture was merely a futile attempt at consoling herself.

"Another and that'll stop bothering you…" Hank's voice again was grave, gesturing to her hands. Michaela realized he'd been there throughout her entire mental battle, without saying a word or moving an inch.

Staring from her hands pressed tightly against the sides of her skirt, Michaela reached her left hand forward a second time, removing the glass from Hank's fingers. She was just as disconcerted as she had been previously, the sharpness of the liquor invading her mouth, seeping it's way down her throat, her lips tingling as her breathing quickened momentarily.

A minute or so passing, Michaela felt her breathing begin to slow, the tightness in her chest abating as she started to feel more in control of her emotions.

"Better?" Hank had brought his eyes up to look at her after she'd consumed the second glass of whiskey.

She nodded slowly in response, glancing between Hank and the now empty glass in her hand, her expression one of a soft pout.

Michaela maintained her grip on the object, holding it out towards him, her voiceless request understood immediately. Hank, his hand extended to take the glass back from her, raised an eyebrow in disbelief, however refilled the glass for the third time. Michaela devoured the contents in a single motion, Hank's mouth dropping open in utter speechlessness.

"Michaela… ya better go easy on…" Hank tried to object, however the small glass was once again held out towards him.

"You… really don't want…" The bartender tried to persuade her against further drinking, however noticed the vacant, lost expression hidden behind her large, soulless eyes.

Sighing, Hank slowly filled the glass for the fourth time, Michaela bringing it to her lips with more hesitance, taking several more tentative sips, her eyes beginning to drift around the near-empty corridor.

"Michaela… here…" Hank's relief when she let him take the glass from her was short-lived, the bartender knowing that immediate discretion needed to be implemented if this was going to be kept quiet.

Hank noticed Michaela's eyes start to glaze over, quickly pacing to Suzie's door, knocking several times, Myra's head appearing after a short moment.

"Hank… can't ya at least give us a bit of…" Myra began, Hank tilting his head awkwardly in Michaela's direction, Myra stepping further out into the hall, having just started to wonder where Dr. Mike had disappeared to.

"Ah, Myra… we got a bit of a situation ah… need ya to take care of Michaela here… get her back to the Clinic…" Hank, his voice so low and delicate, Myra had to strain to hear him.

"You all right, Dr. Mike?" Myra turned from Hank to the Doctor, seeing her standing impassively against the corridor wall.

"She… weren't feelin' too well… had a glass of whiskey… or two… four…" Hank stepped closer to Myra as he completed his sentence to prevent Mike hearing.

"She _what_?" Myra brought a hand to her mouth in horror, never having imagined Michaela Quinn to be the type of woman who'd sniff a glass of whiskey, let alone down four shots in under five minutes.

"Listen… get her back to the Clinic quick… coz that stuff's gonna kick in before ya know…" Hank and Myra turned, Michaela pushing herself slowly from the wall, a slight groan escaping her lips when she realized her body was moving faster than her mind; needless to say, a situation she'd never found herself in before.

"Come on, Dr. Mike… let's go…" Myra crossed the corridor, quickly arriving at her side, grateful when Michaela didn't object to her slipping an arm around her waist to support her.

"Myra… better make sure no-one sees ya… oh and ah… her um… that doctor bag thing…" Hank pointed awkwardly to the black leather bag resting on the edge of the bed, visible only partly through the ajar door.

Myra gave Hank a slightly perturbed look, as it had been he who had furnished Michaela with the alcohol to start with, before stepping back into the bedroom, collecting Michaela's medical bag and arriving back in the corridor. Hank opened the door to Myra's room, beckoning them with his hand.

"Hank, what on earth?" Myra queried, her eyebrows drawn in miscomprehension.

"You can slip out through your window, can't ya… you take her through the Saloon like that, all hell's gonna break loose." Myra realized Hank had a point, and pulled gently on Michaela's right arm, leading her in the indicated direction.

"Where are we…" Michaela's words slurred ever so slightly, feeling her feet move underneath her.

"We're going back to the Clinic, Dr. Mike… come on…" Myra maintained a strong grip on her hand, Hank shaking his head from side to side as the women disappeared slowly from his sight.

**X.O.X**

After having assisted Dr. Mike to the Clinic, Myra quickly realized she was going to require help; she needed to return to Suzie, and Dr. Mike was by now in no fit state to be left alone.

"Grace… _Grace!_" Myra hissed, not really dressed to be seen in public, lurked around the entrance to the café, trying to catch the woman's eye without drawing too much attention to herself.

"Myra… what on earth…" Grace turned from the stew she was stirring on the stove, to her right, seeing the girl concealed slightly behind a shrub.

Waving her hand silently to Grace, Myra waited until the Negro woman had approached her.

"Oh Lord, what are you doin' behind that bush, girl… what's all this about?" Grace, her hands gripped firmly to her hips in moderate annoyance questioned.

"Ah… I ah… I've got a erm… a problem…" Myra, her voice still hushed continued, Grace raising her eyebrows suspiciously.

"You sure you shouldn't be talkin' to Dr. Mike, then…" Grace looked slightly out of her depth, never feeling completely comfortable around any of Hank's girls.

"Ah, ya see… that's the problem… Dr. Mike… she… she's…" Myra flapped her hands exasperatedly in front of her face, her mouth twitching as she struggled to put it into words.

"She's what, girl?" Grace tried to fob her off, not drawn-in by Myra's understandable dramatics.

"She's…. drunk," Myra, her voice dropped, and barely a foot from Grace's face, managed to blurt out.

"Now you listen here, do I look like some sort of fool…" Grace tried to pull away, a smile breaking out across her face.

"No… I… I ain't messin' with ya here, Grace… I swear… she… Suzie got hurt by a fella… and Hank went and got Dr. Mike… Took care a Suzie fine and all, then don't know what happened… she just went all pale like and left the room. Hank apparently gave her some whiskey… trying to calm her… and... well…."

"That man's got a nerve, corruptin'…" Grace sighed, Myra cutting her off once again.

"See… don't think it was all his fault… said Michaela downed four shots in only a couple a minutes…" Myra sighed, Grace slowly beginning to comprehend that this was potentially the falling apart Dorothy and Olive had predicted just that morning.

"Well, where is she now? You didn't leave her over…" Grace's face suddenly took on a concerned seriousness, quickly reducing the heat on the stove, Myra arriving by her side.

"No… no… managed to get her to the Clinic few minutes ago… but she was struggling to walk then… no idea what she's gonna be like by now. I gotta get back to the Saloon though…" Myra looked between Grace and their surroundings, sorry that she had to take Grace from her work.

"Don't you worry 'bout it, I'll look after her… Just you tell Hank I'm gonna have a few words to say to him next time I see him…" Grace quickly untied her apron, flinging in across a chair before taking off down the alleyway towards the Clinic.

**X.O.X**

"Dr. Mike?" Grace opened the heavy wooden door slowly, before noticing Michaela across the room, perched seemingly calmly behind her desk, a book in her right hand.

"Grace… thought I'd tidy up…" Michaela, despite the severe slurring of her words, appeared otherwise fully competent.

"Well, let's see if I can help you there…" Grace arrived quickly at Michaela's side, assisting her to pile up the assortment of textbooks and journals cluttering the desk.

"There we are… all done…" Grace announced, her tone comforting and non-judgmental. Michaela, a book still gripped tightly in her fingers, was memorized by the spots of dried blood still caked on the back of her hand.

Slipping the book delicately from Michaela's grasp, Grace helped her to her feet, the pair crossing the room to the basin, Grace filling it with water from the nearby pitcher and watching silently as Michaela began washing her hands.

"Won't come off…" Michaela continued scrubbing the soap against her delicate hands, Grace leaning in closer, somewhat preoccupied with wanting to get Michaela lying down before she became unmanageable.

"Dr. Mike… it's fine… see, all the blood's gone… all clean…" Grace frowned, continuing to watch Michaela scrub cruelly at her soft skin, water splashing over the edge of the basin.

"No… it's not…" Michaela sighed, allowing the soap to drop with defeat to the basin, her head lowered.

Grace, understanding her words, remained silent as she reached for a clean towel, gently pulling Michaela's arms from the water. Neither speaking, Grace moved the small towel over Michaela's fingers and palms, cupped in her own, until they were dry. Grace looked up as Michaela nervously pulled her hands back, her palms still touching for several moments until she let them sink by her side.

"Dr. Mike… shall we go sit down on the bed, don't want you falling over…" Grace encouraged, Michaela remaining still until the woman reached gingerly for her right shoulder. Feeling Michaela tense under her hand, Grace guided her towards the corridor, Michaela's movements deteriorating further just within the previous couple of minutes.

Michaela had felt the blanket of delayed consciousness wash over her in the hallway back at the Saloon, however not minding at first as it dulled the anxiety she was experiencing. Now, after having arrived back in more familiar surroundings, the detached sensation returned. Whilst for ten minutes or so her intoxication had provided a warm and comforting distraction from her pain, the alcohol continuing to build-up in her system, Michaela now began to feel less and less in control. With this feeling came an exacerbated helplessness. However, without the inhibitions to manage it, Michaela felt her defenses drop, words passing from her lips before she was even aware the thought had entered her mind.

"I'm just like them…" Michaela whispered, being led through the doorway into the closest recovery room. Her steps were awkward and staggered, her arms swaying loosely by her sides as she struggled to maintain her balance.

"What's that?" Grace muttered, more concerned with helping her friend to arrive carefully on the edge of the bed, before taking a seat beside her; Michaela's head drooping as she continued.

"Myra…" Michaela trailed off, the details of her thoughts not being expressed, Grace however catching on immediately, having heard the banter being passed around the town.

"Don't you be ridiculous… ain't the same thing…" Grace felt awkward, wanting to reach for Michaela's arm in comfort, however knowing she was still sensitive to physical contact.

"Is exactly the same thing… shouldn't… let him…" Michaela crossed her arms over her chest, the movement sloppy, yet the emotional defensiveness real. Her voice was soft, her speech increasingly slurred, and her normally infallible grammar declining.

"Dr. Mike… I… I'm sure you didn't let him…" Grace, beginning to feel extremely overwhelmed by the direction their conversation was taking, found herself with no choice but to try to reassure Michaela to the best of her ability.

"Did though… knew… would happen… didn't stop it…" Michaela, the fingers of her right hand still clutched to her left upper arm, brought her left hand upwards, her right hand slipping down to wrap tightly around her left wrist.

"You were hurt bad, Dr. Mike… you musta tried to stop it…" Grace frowned, seeing the anguished regret appear on Michaela's face, recollections of the trauma now uninhibitedly replaying themselves in her mind.

"I…" Michaela's face crumbled, the tears gathering around her eyes finally falling along her cheeks, dripping silently from her jaw line. Given her level of intoxication, Michaela seemed oblivious to Grace's presence, her words drawn-out, slurred, however her pain exposed.

"I… couldn't… He had… the knife… pressed against my throat… wanted to die…. I couldn't... made it so hard… wanting, knowing I… should have let him… slit my throat. I keep thinking would have been better," Michaela had dropped her left hand to her lap, her right hand gripping the side of her neck, feeling the cold, metallic blade against her skin. Her eyes drifted from her lap to the floor, eventually gazing back out to the corridor, whilst her mind remained many miles away.

Grace, decided mere words would not reach Michaela's pain now, remained silent only several feet beside her, watching as Michaela's eyes flickered, moving only occasionally. Grace could only imagine the horrors behind them.

"Nothing I said made any difference… couldn't move… he… held my hands… he…" Michaela clenched her eyes tightly closed, feeling his fingers on her face, on her chest, feeling his mouth pressed against hers. Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, the tone breathy and unsupported, words still slurred together. "I wanted to fight but I couldn't... my entire body was pinned… seemed to last for hours… I didn't think the pain could get any worse… and then it would… and I stopped feeling anything else… I tried to think of the children… but all I could see was Sully… his body still at the bottom of the cliff… He was dead. I couldn't help him. I'd let him down… that I shouldn't be letting this happen… I should have fought whilst I had the chance." Michaela's voice retained its previous ragged quality, her speech lacking natural inflection.

"But still that wasn't the worst… was waking up hours later, cold, couldn't move… that's when I felt the blood… it had really happened… I wasn't… I… became what they said… so being here isn't any better… doesn't make it stop… I can still feel it, in my eyes I can still see it…" Michaela looked downwards, her right hand upturned in her lap.

"The blood is still there," she whispered, swallowing, still appearing unaware of Grace's existence beside her.

**X.O.X**

"Mornin', Robert E…" Matthew dismounted Scout, tying the horse securely to the fence beside him.

"Hey Matthew… didn't think we'd be seeing you for a few days, Olive been needin' all the help she can get from what I hear…" The Blacksmith paused in his work, extending a hand warmly to the young man.

"Neither'd I… Scout threw a shoe, Olive told me to come on in, get you to take care of it, said she could do without me a few hours…" Matthew shook his hand sincerely, before stepping back to lean against the nearby fence.

"Sure bein' mighty considerate, ain't she? Don't sound like the Olive Davis I know…" Robert E. chuckled, his words not meant disrespectfully, however aware of Olive's toughness when it came to her workers.

"Doesn't look too bad… got some time, I'll get right to it…" Robert E. untied the horse, leading her towards the livery, Matthew following silently.

"So… how's everythin' been with you folks… you know if'n there's anythin' I can do… you just have to say…" Robert E. quickly reassured the young man, the pair arriving amongst the other horses in the livery, Matthew holding Scout whilst Robert E. found the necessary tools.

"I... I know… 'ppreciate it… Been all right so far… strained… Dr. Mike's been coping real well… seems Brian's the one causin' all the trouble… acting real strange 'round her… started kicking me so bad the other day, left bruises on my shin…" Matthew removed his hat, shaking his head in recollection.

"Now that ain't like Brian… never seen him hurt a fly," Robert E. contributed, beginning to gently dig out the broken nail from the horse's hoof.

"Me neither… all I done was lift him outa the wagon when we got to the schoolhouse… He ain't been sleepin' neither… Colleen's been tellin' me she's thinkin' a moving outside to the barn, apparently he's up all hours of the night crying, screamin'…" Matthew muttered, sitting on a nearby bale of hay whilst Robert E. continued tending to the horse.

"Sure sounds like somethin's got him spooked… Tried talkin' to him?" Robert E. suggested, patting Scout's neck comfortingly.

"Tried, yeah… won't talk to me… Colleen neither… latches onto Dr. Mike every moment he's with her… Colleen's getting pretty sick of it, reckons Dr. Mike oughta be tougher on him… but I dunno… he's still just a kid…" Matthew recalled the sensitive conversations they'd had, realizing the events of the last month had confronted Brian with many challenges.

"Colleen ain't that much older, either. From what Grace's been saying, that girl's been left to manage a lot on her own… and… gotta be difficult for her, somethin' like this…" Robert E. trailed off, forcing himself to return his attention to the horse, and not retreat into personal concerns.

"S'ppose I hadn't really thought about it like that… she has been pretty rung out lately… thought she didn't mind an' all… but the way she's been snappin' at Brian… you might have a point there…" Matthew placed his hat beside him on the hay, lower arms resting on his knees as he continued to watch Robert E. work, both drifting off into silence.

**X.O.X**

Grace remained silent throughout Michaela's poignant reminiscence, deciding it was best to let her friend talk, without interjecting with false pleasantries. Watching Michaela gaze down, mesmerized in her previous visions, the tears drying on her cheeks, Grace moved her hand only slightly, wanting to reach for Michaela's as she had the year before.

"Rest for awhile, Dr. Mike," she whispered, her right arm gesturing to the pillows at the head of the bed.

Michaela turned her head slowly, glancing from the inviting pillows back to her hands clasped neatly in her lap, about to acquiesces, before intolerable nausea settled in her stomach. Michaela swallowed and leant forward slightly, immediately realizing what was to follow.

Grace saw the suddenly grounded change in Michaela's expression, quickly getting to her feet and spying a basin in the corner of the room, managing to relocate the large bowl to Michaela's side just in time.

**X.O.X**

"I'll be right back Becky, just need to go get a book from the Clinic…" Colleen squeezed her friend's hand warmly, and began pacing thoughtfully across the meadow from the schoolhouse to the bridge. Having just been let out for recess, the young girl was fascinated by their upcoming science project and knew Michaela had the exact book she needed.

Quickening her pace slightly in excitement, Colleen, although still tired from the physical demands of the previous few weeks was beginning to feel more relaxed, with the exception of Brian, the last few days had remained uneventful, and she was confident Brian would settle down given time.

"Hey, Sully…" She smiled, seeing him sauntering from Robert E's, Wolf faithfully by his side. The pair approached, Sully brushing her shoulder affectionately.

"Colleen, don't you have school?" Sully queried, although not in an accusing manner.

"Yes, recess… just going to get a book from Dr. Mike… startin' this new project, I'm heaps excited…" Colleen clenched her fists by her side, looking between the Clinic and Sully, the older man chuckling lightly, seeing so much of Michaela coming through in Colleen after such a short time.

"Was just headin' there myself… thought ya Ma might want to do mornin' tea again…" Sully continued, both arriving outside the Clinic door, Colleen knocking lightly, however getting no response.

"Wagon was at Robert E's just a few minutes ago… she oughta be there…" Sully mused, Colleen shrugging her shoulders, tentatively pushing the door open and looking into the vacant room.

"Ain't no-one here…" The young girl stepped into the room, Sully following behind her, noticing the slightly askew features of the room: books piled untidily on Michaela's desk, and a bowl filled with slightly red-tinged water.

"Sure she won't mind me takin' the book… will she?" Colleen crossed the room arriving at the bookcase, quickly finding the brown-leather bound textbook she required.

"Shouldn't think so," Sully replied, being distracted by a faint commotion coming from one of the recovery rooms down the hall.

Eyes narrowing worriedly, he followed the noise, Colleen frowning and remaining several paces behind him, the pair making their way into the corridor, Sully now able to identify the gagging-type sounds he was hearing.

"Dr. Mike?" Colleen called, looking briefly into the first recovery room. Sully however quickly located the source of the noise.

**X.O.X**

Grace looked up from her position on the edge of the bed, her hand rested securely on her friend's back, Michaela consumed by violent retching into the large bowl on the bed beside her.

Sully was the first to arrive in the doorway, looking instantly from Grace's worried expression, to Michaela's drained face.

"Dr. Mike… what…." Sully paced quickly across the room, Grace extending a hand to ward off his approach, Colleen appearing by his side, her eyes widening in concern as she ran quickly to Michaela's right side, an arm wrapping immediately around her shoulders.

"Oh, Dr. Mike… I… why didn't someone come fetch me?" The young girl exclaimed.

"It's all right, Colleen… everything's fine…" Grace tried to comfort the child. Michaela, neither aware of Colleen's nor Sully's presence, remained bent forwards across the bed, her hands supporting her weight, her chest rising and falling with each heaving movement.

"Dr. Mike?" Colleen tried to get her attention, however Michaela continued to show no acknowledgement, her eyes remaining downcast, her face and neck red with effort and her hair matted around her forehead.

Colleen looked disbelievingly between Grace and Michaela; realization suddenly dawning on her as the unmistakable odor of alcohol filled her nose.

"Miss Grace… is she…" Colleen's jaw dropped, stepping away from Michaela's side, the book remaining clutched firmly against her chest, studying Michaela's crumpled form, a look of intense aversion flooding over the young girl's face.

"She's… drunk?" Sully speculated, remaining perfectly still. His mind was working overtime, making simultaneous deductions; _Michaela would never touch a drop of alcohol in her life: Something was seriously wrong._

Sully was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Colleen's shrill voice, her disgust and fury evident from her tone as well as her words.

"How… how could you do somethin' like this!… I don't understand… This just ain't like you! After everything you've always said about drinkin' and how it don't solve nothin', you go and do somethin' like this! You… you just don't care, do you! Screaming at Matthew and me over nothin'… tryin' to act like everything's all right in front a Brian all the time… now this! I thought you… of all people… were better than this!" Colleen ended, the book in her right hand being flung to the ground with as much force as she was able, pages splitting from the dark brown binding and collating into a jumbled pile against the wooden floorboards.

Catching her breath, tears forming in her eyes, Colleen turned and dashed from the room. Grace and Sully met eyes silently, the young girl's cries meld with the echoing of her footsteps along the corridor, both fading as she fled from the Clinic distraught.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

"I'll go…" Grace stood quickly, about to follow after the young girl, Sully meeting her as she approached the doorway.

"No… best leave her be, she just needs some time to herself… she'll come back when she's ready," he replied calmly, his voice evenly-paced.

"You're right…" Grace nodded, taking her seat back next to Michaela, who had managed to stop retching by this stage.

"'Sides… you've got a café to run… I'll… I'll stay here…" Sully took several steps closer to the bed, Grace looking across at Dr. Mike with uncertainty.

"Think she's doin' a little better… Dr. Mike?" Grace rubbed her shoulder, Michaela lifting her head wearily in response.

"Sully's going to stay here…" Grace rose from the edge of the bed, Michaela appearing not to have heard her.

"She's still pretty out of it… maybe just wait 'til she stops throwing up… then she'll probably want to sleep for awhile…" Grace nodded sympathetically, hovering in the doorway, taking another glance in Michaela's direction.

"I can't thank you enough, Grace… I'm sorry about this…" Sully arrived on the side of the bed, Michaela's attention still focused on the bowl in front of her.

"No need… just bein' a friend… Sully… we're all here, ya know that," Grace replied, her expression genuine and stoical.

"I know… it'll be all right…" Sully sighed, watching as Grace departed down the corridor before letting his gaze drop, recounting the events of the previous few minutes. Of all the experiences he'd considered he would have these last few weeks, sitting beside an intoxicated Michaela Quinn was never one of them.

Michaela remained positioned over the large bowl for several minutes, slowly feeling the queasiness abate. With each breath passing in and out of her lungs, she felt confident she could slowly return to an upright sitting position. Looking up slowly, she took in her surroundings, her mind still cloudy, however recognizing Sully's presence beside her for the first time. His expression was almost unreadable; however she could see no judgment in his soft blue eyes.

"Sully…?" Michaela heard the single word leave her lips, her eyes, although still glazed over, locking with his instantly.

"Ssh… it's all right, Michaela…" He gingerly moved slightly closer towards her, and upon establishing she didn't seem to object, rested his right hand over her left one delicately.

"I'm… sorry…." She looked down at his hand on hers, her eyes dropping closed sleepily, Sully barely having time to comprehend her murmured reply before reaching an arm to her shoulder to steady her.

One hand on her shoulder, he quickly placed the bowl on the floor beside the bed, his attention consumed now in helping Michaela slide along the quilt, her head eventually finding the pillows, her eyes closing immediately in stupor.

Brushing her matted hair lightly from her face, Sully felt the fine strands between his fingers once again, before letting them drop lightly back to the side of her face.

Remaining over her for several moments, he watched in silence. His head less than a foot from hers, Sully felt his heart pain. The wish to hold her in his arms, as he had done weeks before, returned. His head tilting, tracing out the delicate features of her face with his eyes, Sully brought his finger to his lips, gently kissing it, before reaching down and ever so tenderly running it along Michaela's right cheek.

**X.O.X**

Five hours later, Brian hurriedly strapped his books together, neglecting to say goodbye to Steven, before running from the door of the schoolhouse along the meadow, and over the bridge. His pace never faltering until he arrived at the Clinic door, knocking quickly, reaching for the door handle just as it was opened from the other side.

"Ma!" Brian smiled, rushing into the room to greet her.

"School all right?" Michaela turned to glance in Sully's direction, Sully smiling at the boy clinging to her skirt.

"Fine… is Colleen all right, Ma?" Brian brushed off her question, realizing his sister wasn't in the room.

"Why do you ask that?" Michaela smoothed his hair over the top of his head, Sully shifting his weight awkwardly, realizing Michaela had no recollection of Colleen's outburst.

"Coz she left school at recess, ain't been back all day… thought maybe you'd know where she was?" Brian reached his right hand into his trouser pocket, finding a gum drop and slipping it into his mouth.

"I… I don't… that's not like Colleen…" Michaela frowned slightly, looking back across the room as Sully cleared his throat about to speak.

"Michaela, she…" Sully was about to discretely informed Michaela of Colleen's earlier presence; however was cut off by the sound of footsteps sliding into the room.

"Colleen!" Brian cried gleefully, conflicted by the sullen look plastered across the young girl's face, hands firmly fixed in her pockets.

"Colleen, your brother tells me you weren't at school for most of the day… is there…" Michaela tried to question the girl, receiving a glare of contempt in reply.

"I don't wanna talk about it… We goin' home or what? Got chores…" Colleen's voice was husky and low.

"Sure… I… Sully, would you like to join us for supper?" Michaela felt Brian tugging lightly on her arm impatiently, following his slowly towards the door.

"I would… however I think another night would be more appropriate. I'll bring something around tomorrow evening, if that suits?" He looked between Colleen's flabbergasted response to Michaela's offer before replying tactfully, not wishing to hurt Michaela's feelings either.

"Fine," Michaela replied, Brian having located her medical bag on the desk and handing it to her, his desire to get home more than obvious.

"Tomorrow…" Sully smiled at her momentarily, before crossing the room, the four leaving at the children's encouragement.

**X.O.X**

"Thank-you, Robert E…" Michaela watched as Brian settled himself contently in the wagon, before pulling herself awkwardly up beside him, Colleen being the last to join them.

Reaching for the reins, Michaela felt them pulled instantly from her loose grip, Colleen remaining silent as she started the horses, beginning their journey home.

"Colleen?" Michaela queried, still at an odds trying to explain the girl's slightly aggressive behavior.

"I'm drivin'…." The young girl muttered under her breath, Brian quickly redirecting the conversation from his seat on Michaela's right side.

"Colleen, where'd you go anyway… the Reverend was real worried… so was Becky…" Brian leant forwards to address her.

"Never you mind…" Came the final reply, Colleen narrowing her eyes as she directed the horse home, Brian soon dismissing her and proceeding excitedly to recount his day to a slightly hung-over Michaela.

**X.O.X**

"Dr. Mike doin' any better?" Grace looked subtly from the pie she was slicing to the man appearing beside her.

"Yeah… just left with Brian and Colleen… that's what I wanted to talk to you about…" Sully nodded gratefully when Grace paused long enough to pour him a cup of coffee, taking several sips whilst Grace quickly delivered the afternoon tea to several tables.

"Sorry 'bout that…" Grace smiled, returning her attention back to Sully, the pair attempting to ensure their conversation looked as trivial as possible.

"Thing is, she woke up about an hour ago… her normal… well… usual self these days… She seemed real embarrassed at first, but I didn't really make a big deal of it, just brushed it off. Asked her how she felt, said she just had a headache and that was it. Thing is, I don't reckon she remembers any of it, not after she started drinkin'… Just then… when Colleen arrived back in the Clinic, Dr. Mike acted nothin'd happened…" Sully shrugs, not able to comprehend Michaela's earlier behavior.

"That'd probably be it, Sully… my Pa used to drink somethin' shockin'… every night, come home from workin', start on it… if'n he didn't start before he arrived home… It'd worn off by late evening, but he never remembered what'd happened… he'd ask ya the same things he had hours before and you'd answer him… got used to it after awhile, I guess… but maybe that's it?" Grace suggested, Sully continuing after processing her words.

"You're probably right, about that… Just never thought Dr. Mike'd… ya know… Tried to ask her what had happened, why she'd… but she didn't want to talk about it… just said there'd been a problem at the Saloon and Hank'd given her some whiskey, help her feel better…" Sully's eyes searched Grace's for an explanation, his concern evident, however not extreme.

"All Myra told me was, some girl got hurt over at Hank's, and Dr. Mike'd left the room lookin' real poorly… next thing Myra knew, Hank'd said she'd drunk four shots of whiskey in a row… that's when Myra brought her back to the Clinic and I took over…" Grace poured herself a cup and coffee, glancing around at the thinning crowds before gesturing to Sully that they take a seat.

"Four…? No wonder she was throwin' up… Just wait 'til I see Hank…" Sully shook his head, distracting himself with another sip of coffee.

"Myra tried to make it clear though, weren't Hank's fault. I'm thinking Dr. Mike knew exactly what she was doin'… she was real upset Sully, I'm not sure… but I think it was something to do with the girl she had to treat. Had blood stains on her hands and she was gettin' real upset 'bout it… so managed to help her get the blood off… that's when she started… talkin'…" Grace lowered her eyes towards the table cloth, before meeting Sully's and going over Michaela's emotional words from the hours before.

**X.O.X**

"Come on, Brian, go get changed, you gotta feed the chickens and milk the cow whilst I start dinner…" Colleen climbed down from the wagon, the young boy frowning in objection, turning to Michaela immediately.

"Maaa…" Brian tugged on her skirt, remaining tightly pressed to her side still seated firmly in the wagon.

"Oh, will you cut that out! Stop whining like some little baby… Now I told you to go do your chores!" Colleen narrowed her eyes, her arm quickly raising to indicate in the direction of the barn.

"Colleen, there is absolutely no need to yell at your brother like that…" Michaela took a breath, the young girl cutting her off hastily.

"That sure is easy for you to say, I'm the one doin' all the work 'round here, you just do what you feel like, don't matter about any of us!" Colleen dropped her hand to her side, Brian's eyes widening in unparalleled horror, never have seen his sister this angry.

Michaela, her mouth dropped open slightly, looked from Brian back to Colleen, before climbing down off the wagon, and attempting to console her daughter.

"Colleen, has something happened at school? What's made you this angry?" Michaela brought her left arm from her side, about to place in around the girl's shoulder, Colleen emitting a totally exasperated huff of fury, turning and running towards the homestead, slamming the door behind her.

"What's the matter with Colleen, Ma?" Brian whispered, Michaela lifting him awkwardly from the wagon, the boy thoroughly traumatized.

"I don't know, sweetheart… oh… look… there's Matthew… here, you hold onto Bear until Matthew can help you get him into the barn…" Michaela handed the boy the reins, before heading towards the homestead.

"Brian… you and Matthew give us a few minutes inside, all right?" Michaela waited until the small boy had nodded in understanding, before continued up the steps towards the wooden door of the homestead.

**X.O.X**

"Colleen?" Michaela closed the door quietly, seeing the curtain drawn around the children's beds.

Crossing the room, she sighed, determined to get to the bottom of the situation.

"Colleen… Colleen, may I come in?" Michaela paused, her hand rested awkwardly on the white curtain, knowing she had to respect the children's right to privacy if she expected them to respect hers.

"No!" Came the immediate reply, Michaela having no choice but to respect the girl's wishes, looking forlornly around the homestead.

"Well, can you at least tell me what's made you so angry?" Michaela drew a hand to her temple, her self-inflicted headache returning.

"You don't even remember, do you!" Colleen's voice grew louder, Michaela stepping backwards quickly when the girl pulled the curtain open, her face read with fury.

"Colleen… I…" Michaela swallowed, the young girl's pure rage startling her.

"I saw you! This morning, at the Clinic… you were too drunk to even know I was there!" Colleen's eyes bore directly into Michaela's, the young girl unable to withhold the truth any longer.

**X.O.X**

Brian and Matthew turned from tending to the wagon when they heard Colleen's raised voice from inside the homestead.

"Matthew... is Colleen gonna get in trouble… Ma says we're not allowed to yell at each other…" Brian gripped the wheel on the side of the wagon tightly in his right hand, Matthew directed his attention back to unbridling Bear, sighing as his mind tried to process what was going inside the homestead, with his younger brother's demands to be acknowledged.

"I dunno, Brian… Think Colleen's been findin' it real tough lately, picking up all Dr. Mike's chores, well as her own, well as school too… take this into the barn for me whilst I bring Bear…" He handed Brian the horse's tack, the small boy complying, his angst at the continual raised voices coming from the homestead evident, as he awkwardly strode towards the barn.

**X.O.X**

"Colleen… I didn't know… when?" Michaela, her head dropped in shame, looked between her hands and Colleen's face.

"When you were throwin' up… Ya even gonna tell Matthew? Or is this just gonna be some little secret… Can't believe you'd ever do such a thing… You're always goin' on about Hank and all the drinkin' that goes on over there, and then when Jake was drinkin' last year… you didn't tolerate it for a moment… you're no better than him!" Colleen finished, although only because she was out of breath.

Michaela, her eyes dropping closed momentarily, realized that everything her daughter had said was true. She'd done what she'd criticized so many others for doing. Running her hands over her nose and mouth, before letting them drop be her sides, Michaela looked upwards before eventually trying to look Colleen directly in the face.

"You're right… I… I'm sorry… There's… no excuse for this… I'm sorry I let you down…" Michaela felt the tears spring to her eyes once again, her breathing strained as she forced herself not to start crying.

The time, Colleen refused to give into the sheepish expression on Michaela's face. The usually sympathetic and compassionate girl was too riled with understandable selfish concerns.

"Will you stop that! You ain't cried for three weeks… so now you're startin'? Save it, Dr. Mike… I've tried everything I know how… to keep things goin' 'round here; cooking meals, washin', takin' care of the animals, Brian included. I didn't mind up until a point… I wanted ya to get well and all. But there ain't nothin' wrong with ya, if you're traipsing off to work each day, spending half the night tellin' stories to Brian, goin' over to Hank's for a couple a whiskeys whenever ya feel like it! How long's this been goin' on for anyway? Since you got back to work... when?" Colleen her hands pressed firmly on her hips bellowed, Michaela barely keeping up with the speed of her accusations.

"Colleen, I swear today was the one and only time I will ever allow this to happen… I didn't even mean for it…I… But you do have a point… everything's back to normal… there's no reason you need to be doing extra chores. I guess, I honestly just didn't realize how much I was expecting of you…" Michaela reached forward to grasp Colleen's hand, surprised when the young girl permitted the action.

"I wasn't aware of the extra burdens on you… I was too wrapped up in Brian and wanting to get back to work…" Michaela finished, Colleen realizing home life wasn't the extent of her troubles.

"It… It ain't just that, Dr. Mike… it's been school, too… stuff… stuff we ain't told ya about, coz we didn't want ya thinking the whole town was talkin' 'bout ya…" Colleen glanced at Michaela's slightly concerned frown, however indicated for her to continue.

"Ya know Benjamin Avery's been actin' out the worst… Teasin' Brian, getting all the boys to…" Colleen drifted off awkwardly, her jaw trembling just recalling the event from several weeks earlier.

"Tell me, Colleen… no more secrets…" Michaela squeezed the girl's hand tighter, bracing herself for what she suspected would be replication of some of the town's people taunting.

"Benjamin came 'round the back of the schoolhouse, where I was talkin' with Becky… said Brian was hurt… so I went 'round and he'd got all the boys… pretending to be… dog soldiers…" Colleen drew a breath, a tear trailing down her cheek as she continued. "They all started chasin' me, Benjamin grabbed me by the arm, pulled me onto the ground… actin' like it was one huge game… all the boys were joining in with war cries and crowded 'round me… Brian came running over… and they were teasin' 'im… like he was Sully, and couldn't rescue me…" Colleen, her eyes fixed on the fireplace several feet away, could not bring herself to look at Michaela, instead, continued her account. "Benjamin was on the ground next to me, holdin' my arms… I didn't really wanna go along with it, but thought if I fought back it'd just encourage 'em more… Then he got a belt… tied it 'round my wrists, Ma… that's when I knew I wanted it to stop… Brian was getting more scared then, Cal had his foot on Brian's chest, holdin' him down, and I tried to tell Benjamin that he was goin' too far… but… he was just laughin', coz I was strugglin' exactly like they wanted… Then I heard the Reverend yelling and Benjamin untied me… That's when Brian ran home, Ma…" Colleen sighed, slowly raising her head, seeing her own tear-stained face mirrored in Michaela's.

"We didn't wanna tell ya… thought you'd just feel worse if ya knew… but you were right when you said about Matthew fightin' at church… it's worse not knowing… keepin' secrets…" Colleen let her gaze drop again, Michaela taking a step towards her, both reaching forwards for a soothing embrace.

"I'm sorry you children have had to cope with so much on your own… I'm sorry it's because of me…" Michaela sobbed, her left hand stroking the girl's blond hair tenderly, Colleen resting her head on Michaela's shoulder, letting her eyes drop closed, beyond words.

**X.O.X**

Matthew and Brian had remained in the barn for a solid ten minutes, having returned Bear to his stall and fed the horses. The pair sat down on a nearby bale of hay, each resting their chin in their hands. Brian was the first to speak.

"If Colleen and Ma are fightin' is she gonna go live with Miss Olive?" Brian looked from the straw-covered ground to his older brother, his face filled with childlike mortal fear.

"Don't you go thinkin' stuff like that… Colleen's just been doin' too much 'round the place these last few weeks… she and Dr. Mike'll sort it out." Matthew rested his arm around the boy's shoulders, Pup, who had been sitting beside Brian the entire time, suddenly whimpered, pulling himself to his feet.

Matthew and Brian looked between each other suspiciously before noticing Colleen and Michaela appear in the doorway.

"Come on inside… we all need to have a talk…" Michaela glanced across at Colleen, who nodded to Matthew that everything was all right, Brian rushing desperately to Michaela's side.

"Colleen and you ain't yellin' no more?" He questioned, the four of them pacing back towards the homestead.

"No, Brian… everything's all right… we've just decided that it's time we get a few things out in the open…" Michaela bent down to pick him up, engulfing him in a tight hug as they arrived by the back door.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

"Is Colleen gettin' in trouble, Ma?" Brian questioned as they arrived through the back door, the young boy sliding from Michaela's arms down to the floor.

"No, Brian… no-one's in trouble… how about we all take a seat around the table…" Michaela looked nervously across at Colleen, as everyone did as they were instructed.

"To begin with… I know Colleen's been finding these past few weeks extremely tiring, and I have apologized to her for burdening her with extra chores and responsibilities. That is now going to stop. In addition to this, Colleen's enlightened me as to the… troubles you two have been having at school recently… However, it appears as if this has been improving?" Michaela raised an eyebrow in Brian's direction, the young boy eager for the opportunity to contribute.

"Sure has… the Reverend spoke to 'em, and Benjamin ain't called ya an injun whore since… ow!" Brian grasped his left arm defensively, having received a sharp smack from his older brother.

"Matthew!" Michaela chastised, overreacting more so as to be able to ignore Brian's comments.

"... Sorry…" Matthew lowered his head, Brian rubbing his arm a few more times, giving him a slightly superior look, since he'd been reprimanded.

"What I would like us to discuss thoroughly for a moment now, is the issue of secrets… I understand that there have been… situations, things that have happened, that you feel you've not been able to talk openly with me regarding… I'm not angry about this, I understand you children were trying to do the right thing. However, we can't be a family if we're keeping things from each other… and… as I tried to tell you several weeks ago, keeping secrets is just going to hurt people's feelings in the long run." Michaela looked between each of the children in turn before adjusting her clasped hands in front of her, drawing a breath. "I don't care what people say about me… about… my time away… what I cannot deal with is the three of you talking about me behind my back… I don't care what's going on out there… I want to hear about it… because, no matter what it is… I'll hear about it eventually…" Michaela lowered her gaze Matthew frowning and turning to look at Colleen questioningly.

"Told Ma about the stuff Benjamin'd been doin'…" The young girl hung her head, Michaela reaching to her left, to place an arm around Colleen's shoulders.

"And she was right to do so… but there's something I need to talk to you three about too… something I'm not proud of… however I can't expect honesty and openness from you if I'm not prepared to abide by it also." Michaela brought her right hand to her temple, her dull headache still lingering, hoping at least Matthew would be able to understand.

"You all right, Ma?" Brian slipped from his chair opposite her, pacing around the table to her side, his eyes widening in panic.

"I'm fine, sweetheart…" Michaela pulled him onto her lap, wrapping her arms around his chest, looking nervously between Colleen and Matthew, Colleen aware of the disclosure to follow.

"I… really can't believe I'm having to tell you this… earlier today, one of Hank's girls, was hurt… I attended to her… however I suppose… seeing someone like that… hurt… scared… I didn't realize that it was going to make me feel… upset, too…" Michaela lowered her head, idly beginning to straighten Brian's overall strap on his right shoulder.

"Did ya cry, Ma?" The young boy moved his head to look at her, his face filled with compassion and as much empathy as he could have been expected to possess.

"No… I… didn't cry, Brian… I… did something I'd never, ever thought I'd do… I…" Michaela felt her lips moving slightly, unable to form the words in her mouth. Looking to Colleen, the young girl lowered her head, managing to get the necessary sentence out.

"… Had too much to drink…" Colleen whispered, looking up to see Matthew's eyes move wildly, his jaw dropping subconsciously.

The four remained sitting silently, Colleen and Matthew exchanging glances between each other. Brian, absorbed in replaiting Michaela's hair, appeared unaware of the revelation that had just occurred.

"At the Saloon, Dr. Mike… did Hank…" Matthew scrunched his fists together defensively, about to get to his feet.

"No, Matthew… it wasn't like that, Hank offered… and I… took the glass…" Michaela looked down at Brian's child-like concentration, still surprised he had not commented.

"Still, he had no right to even offer…" Matthew growled, feeling overwhelmed with protectiveness towards his mother.

"He was only trying to help… I just should have refused the drink…" Michaela sighed, watching as Brian triumphantly finished the attempted hairstyle.

"Ain't like ya gotta be perfect all the time, Dr. Mike… I'm real sorry I yelled at ya, too. Guess I just was… shocked…" Colleen remembered the incident in the Clinic earlier that day.

"You saw this, Colleen?" Matthew pressed on, Brian actually appearing to now try and follow the conversation.

"Yeah… went to the Clinic at recess… Ma… was… pretty drunk…" Colleen placed each word delicately; as if separating the word 'Ma' from 'drunk' would somehow diminish it's relationship.

Brian had, by that time, heard two words he'd understood and gasped lightly.

"Ma was drunk? You mean like Jake was last year… Ma, you're not gonna get like Jake, are you… please say you're not gonna get all sick like what you said he was…" Brian struggled for breath, unknowingly pulling tighter on Michaela's hair as he spoke.

"Oww… Brian no… I, I promise… it will never happen again. I wanted to tell you however, because I don't want there to be anything we feel we can't discuss as a family." Michaela pried her long hair from the child's agitated fingers, addressing the older children as she concluded her sentence.

"Dr. Mike's right… ya hear that Brian?" Matthew sought out his younger brother's attention, receiving a quick nod of agreement.

"Does anyone have anything else they wanted to talk about?" Michaela stroked Brian's shoulder, the small boy looking between each of his siblings expectantly, both shaking their heads quickly. Brian quickly searched his brain, one question coming instantly to mind.

"Colleen, can we make a pie for dessert tonight?" He raised his eyebrows, Michaela leaning forward to rest her chin in her hands, unable to stop herself from laughing.

"Sure, Brian… wanna help?" Colleen smiled, the boy jumping from Michaela's lap to the bench, Colleen placing the necessary bowl and utensils in front of him.

Matthew remained quiet, Michaela eventually realizing he was gazing in her direction.

"Dr. Mike… is there… I dunno… I feel like, I mean… I'm the oldest… is there anything I can do to help?" Matthew, his mouth nervously dry, his hands resting on his thighs, attempted to offer his support.

"No…everything will be all right…" Michaela locked eyes with him, her expression warm and grateful.

She and Matthew remained at the table for several minutes longer, watching as Colleen and Brian began making their pie. Their eyes locking once again, Matthew returned Michaela's temperate smile, before getting to his feet and returning outside to finish his chores.

**X.O.X**

**Friday, 2****nd**** June, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Oh, thanks so much, Dr. Mike… I didn't know where I was gonna go… I mean… Horace offered and all… but… ain't right…" Myra placed the heavy brown suitcase on the edge of the bed, Michaela hovering in the door of the upstairs recovery room.

"It's no trouble, Myra… really… but what are you going to do about Hank?" Michaela queried, proud that Myra has decided enough was enough and left him, however very much aware of the fact that Hank would not be pleased about the turn of events.

"Don't much care… told him… he can call the law, throw me in jail, whatever… but least I'll still be safer than workin' for him. Suzie done the same too, 'cept she never had no contract, so just went back to her folks in Soda Springs…" Myra began unpacking her bags, hanging up various items of clothing in the nearby wardrobe.

"Surely he wouldn't get the law involved though… that'd be too much like effort for Hank?" Michaela, the corner of her mouth upturned ever so slightly, smiled, Myra chuckling under her breath in acknowledgement.

"That's what I thought… 'Sides once Horace and me are married, ain't nothin' Hank can do…" Myra paused from hanging clothes away, as she gazed off dreamily for several moments.

Michaela remained silent, leaning against the wooden frame of the door, noticing the enchanted excitement creep across Myra's face. What had originally been a smile of support subtly dropped from Michaela face, as she found herself tinged with envious regret at the engaged woman's happiness. Never normally permitting herself to feel jealousy for another, this very rare realization found Michaela pondering her own future. _Was she to spend the rest of her life alone? Would she and Sully ever recover what they'd once shared, could she expect that of him, or any man now…_ Unaware of her head dropping downwards, Michaela felt a hand lightly brush her shoulder.

"Dr. Mike… you all right?" Myra tilted her head, studying Michaela's lost expression.

"Oh, sorry Myra… just… everything's fine…" Michaela drew a breath, quickly focusing back on their previous discussion. "So, when do you and Horace think the wedding will be?" Michaela distracted herself by enquiring as to the wedding details.

"Well… we weren't gonna tell no-one… but… oh, I just can't keep it a secret! Last night, Horace came over to see me… and I told him I was leavin' Hank first thing… so we started talkin' about the wedding… and… and Horace said given that Hank could call the law at any time, we shouldn't wait… 'sides… he said he wanted to make it real special… so we're gonna go to Denver on the Monday stage… get married there… then stay for a week or so… have a real holiday like, Horace said… that way, everything shoulda settled down with Hank by the time we get back…" Myra had clasped her hands together, jumping up and down excitedly as she described Horace's plans for their elopement.

"Oh, Myra… I'm so happy for you both… you just have a lovely time…" Michaela, her enthusiasm only somewhat renewed, reached her arms out to engulf Myra in a tight hug, more to hide her slightly dismayed expression than to emphasize her elation.

"Thanks, Dr. Mike…" Myra returned the embrace, the pair only pulling away when a loud yelling was heard from the street below.

Moving quickly out onto the balcony, Michaela and Myra soon determined the source of all the commotion.

"Myra! Myra, you ain't gonna get away with this… Just wait 'til I wire that judge… he'll soon sort ya out…" An aggressively intoxicated Hank staggered out from the Saloon, arriving in the middle of the main street, quickly locating Myra on the balcony above him.

"Leave it be, Hank… Horace already told ya he'd refuse to send the wire… You want somethin' done about it, gonna have to go get the Judge yaself… 'sides we'll be married by then… so ain't nothin' ya can do!" Myra gripped the rail of the balcony, more annoyed by the public display than Hank's anger.

"Oh, is that so, is it? Might just have to take care a that then… won't I…" Hank walked around in several small circles eventually reaching his hand to his holster, starting in the direction of the telegraph office.

"Hank!" Myra gasped, attracting attention from several passersby below.

Sully, Wolf by his side approached from the other direction, along the edge of the main road towards the Clinic porch. Having heard the passing dialogue, he noticed Hank remove the gun from his belt, Sully darting quickly behind a wall, so as not to be seen.

"Ain't nothin' ya can do to stop me… can't be gettin' married without a man now, can ya!" Hank looked down at the gun, a vengeful smile appearing on his lips.

"Hank, just calm down…" Michaela, her arms clutched to Myra's shoulders, pleaded, Myra about to run back inside to approach him when Michaela saw the shiny metallic object fly through the air.

"Wait!" Michaela pulled gently on Myra's arm, the pair watching as the tomahawk made contact with the gun, sending it dropping to the dirt below. Hank, his reaction time greatly diminished due to his level of intoxication, stared momentarily between his now empty hand and the gun at his feet, trying to make sense of what had happened.

These several seconds gave Sully the chance to arrive at his side, picking up both the gun and his tomahawk, Jake and Loren running from the barber shop in response to all the yelling.

"Gonna need someone to take charge a this for awhile…" Sully handed the gun to Jake, he and Loren looking between Sully and Hank in confusion.

"Hank here was just threatenin' to fix it so Horace and Myra wouldn't be gettin' married… best if you keep him and the gun separated for awhile I reckon…" Sully caught his breath, Hank narrowing his eyes at Sully, his anger building by the second.

"Can't do that, it's my property," Hank snidely replied, turning towards Jake.

"He's right there… we ain't got no one 'round here with the authority to confiscate personal property…" Loren reluctantly informed his friend, Jake frowning as he thought.

"You're right… only a Sheriff or a Mayor has the right to do somethin' like that… and we ain't got neither… Sheriff would have to be sworn in by a Judge… Mayor would…" Jake, thinking very quickly, still holding on to the gun firmly looked up at Michaela on the edge of the balcony."

"Hey, Dr. Mike… you got any objection to me bein' Mayor… then I can keep this thing away from the like's a him…" Jake gestured to the gun in his right hand, noticing Horace arrive at his side, having been informed minutes earlier, running straight from the telegraph office.

"None whatsoever, Jake…" Michaela called back loudly, her hands still supportively wrapped around Myra's shaking shoulders.

"What about you, Horace… if I'm Mayor I can rightfully confiscate this thing…" Jake raised an eyebrow not expecting any hesitation.

"Ya got my vote all right," The extremely nervous man replied quickly, Jake turning in Loren's direction.

"Congratulations, Mayor Slicker… that gun is all yours…" Loren added his vote, realizing that with a four-fifths majority they had themselves a new town Mayor, and just in the nick of time, too.

"That settles that, then…" Jake nodded, adjusting his vest proudly, as he and Loren began their slow retreat back to the barbershop.

"This is all your fault, pathetic injun lover…. I'm gonna get you for this…" Hank spat in Sully's direction, the pair watching as the crowd dispersed around them.

"Hank… violence ain't the way ya solve problems… what'd you expect me to do… let ya blow Horace's head off?" Sully stepped closer towards him, realizing his aggression was mostly due to the alcohol.

"All right for some, ain't it… what've I got now… eh?" Hank looked between Myra and Sully, his anger seeming to mellow.

"Ya gotta just accept it, Hank… she love's someone else… ain't nothin' ya can do about it…" Sully lowered his voice, trying to show concern for Hank's obvious pain.

"Yeah… And least I only lost her to the likes a Horace… not some injun… ain't that right, Sully…" Hank whispered hoarsely as he took a step closer, the men less than two feet away now.

"Sorry Hank… I ain't bitin'…" Sully straightened his head, mustering all the strength he could to dismiss Hank's insensitive remark.

The bartender scoffed under his breath, lowering his voice further as he locked eyes with Sully.

"Ya still _want_ her, don't ya… after that savage had his filthy hands all over her!" Hank raised his eyelids just enough to be able to glance from Michaela, still standing besides Myra on the balcony, although neither having any comprehension of the conversation taking place below, back to Sully.

Sully felt his eyes widen in reaction to Hank's words, the tension in his body building, as he willed every muscle in his body not to give in. The energy and anger releasing from him through a drawn-out growl, Sully turned and took several steps away from the intoxicated bartender. As he felt the ground under his feet, Sully's body was filled with momentary relief; he'd restrained himself from physical violence.

Taking two additional steps in the same direction, Sully heard a light chuckle emanate from Hank's mouth, still walking until he processed the words that followed:

"Well… 'least she'll know what she's doin'… won't have to break her in… _so to speak_…" Hank whispered, his final three words uttered with mocking delicacy.

Sully, his body frozen by the end of Hank's comment, felt himself move quickly, aware of the air rushing past him as he leapt across the short distance between them, arriving on the ground, Hank's stunned body being crushed underneath him.

"You… are gonna take that back…" Sully felt his hands tighten around the collar of the bartender's shirt.

"Sully!" Michaela, still standing beside Myra on the balcony the other side of the street, pleaded to him; her call drawn-out, shocked at this sudden display of violence.

Sully turned at the sound of her voice, giving Hank the opportunity to retaliate against him, his right arm pulled back above his head. About to pull himself off the intoxicated man, Sully turned back, receiving an unexpected blow to the forehead.

"Come on, injun boy… reckon you're so good at fightin'…" Hank slurred, throwing another punch to Sully's chest.

The moments that followed saw the men locked together in a struggle of honor, neither willing to swallow his pride by pulling away. Sully soon found himself lying on his back, Hank's liquored breath hot and ragged only several inches from his own mouth. Pushing against his shoulders with as much strength as he could mutter, Sully managed to roll the bartender over several times, successfully avoiding another punch to the forehead, however making no attempt to cease the brawl.

Loren and Jake, halfway between the Saloon and the barbershop reacted to Michaela's voice, turning and immediately retracing their steps to arrive beside the dueling men. Loren gestured quickly for them each to fill buckets of water from a nearby trough, dousing the men without delay.

Sully felt the freezing water hit his head, trailing down his neck and back, before he managed to react. Pulling himself from Hank, he awkwardly got to his feet, still slightly bent over as he caught his breath, checking that he had not been hurt.

"Bunch a schoolboys… oughta know better…" Loren chastised, Hank appearing more shocked by the drenching than by the fighting.

"Weren't nothin'… just a bit a fun, ain't it?" Hank smirked in Sully's direction, before heading back to the Saloon, pushing the doors aside loudly, and disappearing into the blackness within.

"Ain't like you Sully…" Loren muttered, watching as Sully pushed his hair back from his face, suddenly remembering hearing the sound of Michaela's voice. Turning quickly back towards the balcony, he only saw her hair sweep across her shoulder as she stormed back into the recovery room, disgusted by the preceding events.

Myra caught his eye with understanding; she knew just how cruel Hank could be when he put his mind to it. Sully felt his chest drop to his stomach, his lungs filling with regret.

**X.O.X**

"Great supper, Colleen…" Brian placed his serviette gently on the table beside him, considerately beginning to stack the plates around him into a neat pile.

"Thanks, but weren't me… Dr. Mike did the cookin' tonight…" Colleen looked from her brother to Michaela with a genuine smile.

"Ma, that was really, really good…" Brian giggled, feeling slightly guilty for having assumed it was Colleen's work.

"Thank-you, Brian…" Michaela smiled, able to read the little boy's surprised expression.

"Sure was, Dr. Mike," Sully contributed, placing his knife and fork together, before adding his plate to Brian's orderly stack.

Michaela nodded, quickly distracting herself by standing and taking the plates across to the basin, eager to start the washing up.

Matthew saw the frown spread across Sully's face, quickly slapping Brian on the shoulder playfully.

"Heya… still light outside, how about some checkers?" He smiled, Brian getting to his feet.

"Yeah… all right," the boy replied, Matthew turning to obtain Colleen's attention, a sharp look towards the back door getting his message across.

"I ah… really should… ah… get some… firewood…" Colleen managed to think of an excuse, the three children scurrying from the homestead.

"You've been quiet… ya still mad at me?" Sully cleared his throat, Michaela maintaining preoccupied with the washing up.

"What do you think…" She sighed, continuing to scrub the dinner plates in the soapy water.

"Look… told ya I was sorry… didn't mean for it to happen…" Sully stood and pushed his chair back under the table, crossing the room slowly and reaching for a dish cloth once he'd arrived at the basin.

"You always say violence doesn't solve anything… Despite Hank's behavior towards Myra, even threatening Horace, I fail to see exactly how you thought a schoolyard brawl would make things any better…" Michaela moved the soapy dinner plate from the water, placing it down loudly in front of Sully.

"I… guess I just let him get to me… all make mistakes, don't we…" Sully, his voice submissive and apologetic, hoped to close the matter.

"You're right…" Michaela sighed, taking in the events of the previous twenty-four hours, before continuing, "it just seems as if we deal with one problem and something else goes wrong… I just… I can't understand Hank hating Horace that much… that he'd really want to kill him…" Michaela looked awkwardly across at Sully, their fingers brushing momentarily as she handed him the next dinner plate.

"Hank believes… that he loves her… as much as we might not understand that… I sure can see where he's comin' from… he's losin' her… and he doesn't want to…" Sully turned away to commence drying the plate, more as an excuse to disguise the underlying subtext of his words.

"But if she doesn't love him… then there's nothing he can do about that…" Michaela, having remained focused on the washing during Sully's previous response, missed Sully's subtle metaphor.

"Ain't gonna stop him tryin' though… if he loves her enough…" Sully lowered his head, aware that Michaela wasn't following him, Hank's words from that morning flooding back into his mind.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

**X.O.X**

**Thursday, 8****th**** June, 1869**

_**Six Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Whatever I do, it's the wrong thing… I want to talk to her… tell her how I feel, but I don't want her to think I'm pressuring her…" Sully threw the stick into the nearby fire, patting the Wolf's head beside him.

"It will take time…" Cloud Dancing nodded, understanding his brother's dilemma, looking for words of comfort, however not able to find any.

"I know… I feel as though we're back where we were a year ago, though… not even that sometimes… I can see she's in pain, I can see she's struggling, I try to reach out, show her I'm there… and she pushes me away…" Sully rested his arms loosely on his outstretched legs in front of him, Cloud Dancing waiting several moments before replying.

"How are the children?" The Cheyenne elder queried, after some time.

"It depends… but coping well enough, all things considered. Except for Brian… the children at school have been nasty… but think he's too young to understand most of it. All I know is he won't let Dr. Mike out of his sight a moment longer than he has to… scared a losing her again, I guess…" Sully sighed, shaking his head as he gazed absent-mindedly around the reservation.

"We call that hóéstse néso; clutching child… we see it often in very young children whose mothers have been killed, or become ill and died. They will… follow… shadow… usually an older sister, or another woman in the tribe, showing great distress when they are separated from them, or do not know their whereabouts…" Cloud Dancing turned to Sully, his eyes questioning as to whether this related to Brian's behavior.

"That's what's happening to Brian… Will he… grow out of it, I mean… is there anything we should be doing?" Sully pulled his outstretched legs into a crossed sitting position, looking across at Cloud Dancing once again.

"It depends… it is normal for a child to feel fear after such a trauma… therefore it is normal for them to act in ways to limit their fear… most children do grow out of it, in time…" Cloud Dancing reassured.

"How much time? Dr. Mike says he's been havin' nightmares too… says he's dreamin' of bad things happening to her…" Sully frowned, his concern evident in his troubled expression.

"It is not known how long any one child will take. If there is no improvement after several months… there is a cleansing ceremony that we perform… to lay the unnecessary fears to rest… it will work if nothing else does…" Cloud Dancing explained, Sully nodded his head; consoled by his words.

Cloud Dancing stood, placing several additional pieces of wood onto the burning fire several feet in front of them. Returning to his place on Sully's left, he looked between a nearby group of women, including his wife, before looking back again to his white brother, choosing his words carefully.

"Snowbird asks about Dr. Mike… she feels much shame for what has happened…" Cloud Dancing lowered his head, his eyes glistening slightly.

"There is no need for her shame… it was not…" Sully noticed Snowbird watching them quietly from the group of women she was standing with across the campsite.

"I… know… but I feel this guilt also… Snowbird wishes to know if there's anything…" Cloud Dancing drew an awkward breath, the pain obvious in his eyes.

"Cloud Dancing, I haven't… I mean, I don't think it's time, yet… so much has been going on with Dr. Mike… the children…" Cloud Dancing nodded quickly, retracting his former words.

"I am sorry… Forgive me, I cannot begin to understand the damage that has been done…" Cloud Dancing, having contemplated the thought for several weeks now, was beginning to think it possible that Dr. Mike would never again feel capable of maintaining a friendship with Snowbird, himself, or the Cheyenne people.

"I wish I could promise that she'd know the difference… but I can't… we haven't even begun to discuss it… maybe… in time, as you say… things just take time…" Sully met eyes with Snowbird, the woman dropping her head as she turned away, regret and sadness in her eyes.

**X.O.X**

**Friday, 9****th**** June, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"I'll see you both at the Clinic after school…" Michaela accepted her now routinely prolonged goodbye hug from Brian, before the boy jumped from the wagon following his sister towards the school house.

Continuing the journey into town, Michaela dropped the wagon at Robert E's before arriving at the Clinic and settling in for what she hoped would be a relatively quiet day.

**X.O.X**

"Come in…" Michaela beckoned, remaining perched awkwardly on a chair, stacking older medical journals on the top shelf of the bookcase.

"Afternoon Michaela… _Michaela_…." Dorothy entered the room, slightly startled at the scene before her.

"Oh… afternoon, Dorothy… I'll just be a minute…" Michaela balanced the final pile of journals on the top shelf.

"Was wondering if you fancied joining me for tea and cake over at Grace's… if you're not too busy…" Dorothy questioned, smiling around as she admired the orderliness of the room.

"That sounds lovely… the children will be finished in half an hour anyway, so I may as well call it a… day…." Michaela winced lightly, stepping carefully from the chair to the ground.

"You all right?" Dorothy rushed quickly to her side, instructing her to sit down for a moment.

"Just a bit… sore… still… I forget most of the time…" Michaela got to her feet quickly and removed her apron immediately, allowing herself several moments distraction before Dorothy ventured back to the subject.

"Well… you gotta take it easy, least for a few more weeks… know it seems like everything's back to normal and all, but… you were awful sick, Michaela…" Dorothy reached gingerly to brush Michaela's right arm, meeting eyes momentarily in a gaze of unspoken comprehension.

"Shall we?" Michaela was the first to move, getting to her feet and returning the chair to her desk, the pair making their way to the café.

**X.O.X**

"Afternoon, Dr. Mike… Dorothy… I've got some nice cinnamon cake fresh outa the oven, and hot coffee too…" Grace smiled, gesturing to a nearby empty table.

"May I have some tea, please, Grace…" Michaela smiled, the pair taking their seats immediately.

"Must say it certainly is nice to see you back at work these last few weeks… trust there's been no further trouble?" Dorothy, having heard about several of the insensitive remarks of some of the townspeople, enquired.

"No… everything's been fine… quite a relief actually…" Michaela smiled gratefully as Grace placed the hot drinks and slices of cake down in front of each of them.

"Brian? He gettin' any better?" Dorothy frowned ever so slightly, worried by the boy's normally mature behavior.

"I really don't know… Some days I like to think so… but then others… I haven't heard of any more nightmares in over a fortnight… but his distressed behavior, trying whenever he can to avoid going to school… I just don't know what to do…" Michaela delicately began breaking off a small piece of cake with her fork.

"Michaela, I don't think I ever told you… probably because Brian was worried he'd hurt your feelings… last Halloween?" Dorothy raised an eyebrow questioningly, Michaela shaking her head slightly, taking a sip of tea, as Dorothy continued.

"Well, last Halloween… Brian got it into his head that his Ma had forgotten about him… the children were trying to call ghosts or some such nonsense… and apparently Charlotte wouldn't appear… What I was surprised at, is just how upset he seemed by the idea that she'd forgotten him… that he actually believed it was possible… Just when you mentioned he's been havin' bad dreams… and to see the way he's behavin' 'round ya… been thinkin' maybe he seriously thought he was never gonna see ya again… therefore not wantin' ya outa his sight now…" Dorothy sipped her coffee, Michaela taking in her words.

"That is what I was thinking. I've been reading some journals, trying to figure out how best I can help him… but there's very little in the area of child psychiatry…" Michaela sighed, pushing the cake away, having lost interest.

"But… surely you don't think there's anything _wrong_ with him?" Dorothy placed her cup of coffee back down on the table, a momentary flash of horror crossing her face.

"Oh… no… no, of course not… but these nightmares are certainly causing Brian considerable distress… and his behavior is particularly… inappropriate lately…" Michaela reflected on his overt clinginess and tantrums.

"Don't worry… I'm sure he'll settle down once he gets used to everything being back to normal…" Dorothy nodded in support.

"It's been a month, Dorothy… I could understand a few weeks… but he just seems to be getting worse… I'm probably just worrying over nothing… it's most likely the troubles at school, and now that that has all settled down… everything should be fine…" Michaela convinced herself, returning her attention to the lukewarm cup of tea in front of her.

"Yes, from what the Reverend's been saying, they've certainly got their hands full… he's talked me into this auction business too… wouldn't ya know it… Loren said he'll bid a dollar…" Dorothy chuckled, her eyes glistening as she watched Michaela sigh awkwardly.

"That's another thing… Brian's being very… persistent… he wants me to take part in the auction… I… don't know if I should…" Michaela dropped her head, alternating her nervous glance between Dorothy and the cup in her right hand.

"Well… I can understand you'd feel… uncomfortable… but there's no reason you can't…" Dorothy, with equal uneasiness, tried to reassure her friend.

"Dorothy, please… don't pretend. You think I don't know what everyone's been saying about me… what they've been saying to my _children_!" Michaela took a deliberate look around the café, the casual glances from passersby enough to prove her point.

"I know… it's up to you… but if you do want to take part I'm sure Sully…" Michaela cut her off immediately.

"No… You're right. It was an unconscionable idea… I suppose, I just didn't want to let Brian down…" Michaela frowned, looking up when she heard a strangled cry.

"Ma!" Brian squealed, running from the alleyway across to the table, tears streaming down his face, gasping for breath by the time he approached her side.

"Brian? Sweetheart, what's wrong…" Michaela ran her hands down his arms, studying his face and hands for any sign of injury, Dorothy looking on in utter shock at the boy's extreme state of distress.

"You… you weren't at the Clinic… I didn't know where…" He continued struggling for breath, his fingers gripping the sleeve on her blouse for dear life.

Colleen arrived quickly to the table, her face dropped in anxious worry, looking from Michaela to Brian and finally to Dorothy, indicating her concern over her brother's dramatics.

"Sweetheart, I was right here… with Miss Dorothy… I'm sorry, I guess I just didn't realize what time it was… Brian, it's all right. Calm down, it's all right…" Michaela wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her in an attempt to comfort him.

"... didn't know where you were… thought something had happened…" He sobbed, his head nestled tightly against her shoulder, his face crumpled in agony.

"Brian… nothing's happened… please… sweetheart… please don't get so upset," Michaela sighed, looking upwards momentarily, her torment over his panic evident. Meeting eyes with Dorothy, Michaela gestured back towards the whimpering child, his fingertips whitening as he clutched tighter to her.

"Michaela… this isn't right…" Dorothy muttered, her eyes wide as she watched her friend struggle to soothe the disturbed child.

"I know," Michaela looked from Dorothy to Colleen.

Waiting several minutes for Brian to stop crying, Michaela realized they'd unintentionally drawn a small crowd of nosy townspeople.

"Come on, sweetheart… let's go home, shall we?" She rubbed his back, Brian nodded, lifting his head and pulling softly on her arm.

"Michaela, if you need anything, please don't hesitate…" Dorothy offered, Michaela smiling softly in appreciation, pulling herself to her feet, the small boy still hanging off her.

"Thanks…" Michaela placed the money for afternoon tea on the table, Dorothy squeezing her wrist gently, as Michaela, Colleen and Brian departed from the café, back towards the livery to collect the wagon.

Dorothy remained in her chair, noticing Jake and the Reverend pass her, taking a seat and beginning to drink their fresh cups of coffee. Frowning slightly, Dorothy decided it was time to enlist the support of the town.

"Afternoon, gentlemen…" She smiled coyly, taking a seat as they gestured polite welcomes.

"Dorothy…" Jake tipped his hat, their relationship in constant uncertainty.

"Was wondering if the two of you might be able to help a friend out of a little problem…" Dorothy clasped her hands together daintily on the table in front of her.

"Depends… who's the friend… what's the problem?" Jake, in one of his less accommodating moods, began picking his teeth with his tongue.

"It's Michaela… she's having a dreadful time with Brian… well you've heard about the auction coming up, haven't you? Help raise money for the school play…? Reverend… surely you've been passing the word around?" Dorothy glanced between each of the men in turn, Timothy quickly realizing where she was going with this.

"Ah, Dorothy… now, I'm not so sure having Dr. Mike in the auction's such a good idea… not sure everyone would be so… understanding…" Timothy, naturally having no personal objection, was more than aware of some of the attitudes of the townspeople.

"Reverend… how can you say that? I would have expected, you… of all people… to have a more Christian attitude," Dorothy began, her voice rising slightly with each word. Timothy quickly extended a hand to politely cut her off.

"Dorothy, please… it's not that I disapprove… but you've heard people talk… I just… I don't see the point in stirring up trouble over something that's really not all that important," the Reverend looked downwards, slightly ashamed of his words.

"Well, it's obviously important to Brian… how's he going to feel if everyone else's mother is involved but his? It's just going to look like we're making a big deal of it…" Dorothy glanced at Jake for support.

"Dr. Mike's not actually considering going through with it, is she?" The newly appointed Mayor voiced, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

"And why shouldn't she? Don't tell me you think there's any truth… to what people been sayin'?" Dorothy raised a single eyebrow, almost challenging Jake to disagree with her.

"Of course not… I just assumed she wouldn't feel… right about it… I mean, I know it's only a dance… and I wouldn't have any problems dancing with her… but I just don't know if it's such a wise idea… putting her up in front of the town and all…" Jake tried to justify his statement.

"That's what I say, Dorothy… why risk a public display?" Timothy shook his head, convinced it was just too soon.

"To show we don't want to see her ostracized… to show it's in the past. For Brian, if nothing else…" Dorothy looked back towards the alleyway, remembering the distressed state the little boy had been in only minutes before.

"There's no denying that he's going through a difficult time… but maybe she's trying too hard for that little boy…" the Reverend distracted himself sipping his coffee thoughtfully.

"That's my point; she's trying… and if Michaela's willing to participate, then surely the least we can do is see to it that there are no… problems. Jake… you said yourself you wouldn't have a problem dancing with her, and I know Loren wouldn't. I'm sure, between a few of you, you can see to it that everything goes smoothly?" Dorothy alternated her proposition between the two men across the table.

"Well… I… I suppose so… as long as you're sure Dr. Mike won't mind?" Jake looked to Timothy for his response.

"As I said, I've got no objection… but I'm going to be the auctioneer, and I'm afraid… the dances go to the highest bidder… there isn't anything I can do about who that might be…" Timothy moved in his chair slightly, beginning to get a very uneasy feeling about this.

"Then you men will just have to ensure that it's someone… appropriate…" Dorothy nodded, realizing just how long she'd been away from the store. Getting to her feet, she noticed the Reverend and Jake exchange worried looks.

"You just make sure Loren agrees to this too…" Jake pointed his finger sharply in the direction of the Mercantile, Dorothy nodding in reassurance.

"You leave Loren to me… Gentlemen…" She smiled with faint smugness; having achieved her objective, before turning and pacing confidently back towards the store.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

**X.O.X**

**Saturday, 17****th**** June, 1869**

_**Eight Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Aww, I got a bad feeling about this… I'm tellin' ya…" Loren shook his head, smoothing out his suit jacket as he and Dorothy strolled slowly from the porch of the Mercantile, along the main street towards the meadow.

"Don't be silly, Loren… everything's going to be fine… Jake assured me you'll all be keeping an eye out… we just got to stop worrying, and enjoy the day. After all, it's for the children…" Dorothy continued down the main street beside Loren, various townspeople beginning to congregate in the meadow.

"I know that… it's just… can't help thinkin' this is just askin' for trouble… I mean… what if someone just wants Dr. Mike… because…" Loren pulled an awkward face, his gaze lowering.

"That's where you and Jake come in… gotta make sure there's nothin'… like that goin' on… 'Sides… don't even know if she's planning to do it yet… still hadn't made up her mind yesterday when I spoke with her…" Dorothy quickly spotted the Reverend talking with newlyweds Myra and Horace.

"Oh… look, they're back, Loren… come on… let's go find out how the honeymoon went…" Dorothy gasped, an immediate smile broadening on her face.

"Dorothy… please… not like it was going to be that much of an accomplishment, Myra was…" Loren tipped his head, rolling his eyes as Dorothy quickened her pace eagerly across the meadow.

"Sshhh!" Dorothy scolded. "Afternoon Myra… Horace… welcome back!" Dorothy approached the young woman engulfing her in a friendly embrace.

"Oh… Miss Dorothy… I mean… Dorothy…" Myra blushed slightly, her left hand intertwined in Horace's.

"Thank-you, Dorothy… yes, arrived safely home yesterday afternoon… the Reverend here was just catching us up on all the news…" Horace smiled politely, looking around as the area began to fill with a collection of families, all the women dressed in their finest attire.

"Hank ain't been causin' no more trouble, I hope…" Myra frowned nervously, glad the Saloon owner was remaining out of sight, at least for the moment.

"Now, don't you go worryin' about that, Myra… that's all in the past…" Dorothy touched her shoulder lightly, distracted by Loren's stifled gasped.

"Loren… what…" Dorothy turned, bystanders around her also reacting to the small group approaching from the bridge.

"Dr. Mike…sure cleans up well… don't she…" Loren, his jaw trembling slightly, eye wide, muttered under his breath, Dorothy startled by the very approving smile creeping across his lips.

"Loren!" she reprimanded, watching as Michaela and the children passed by the groups of huddled townspeople, still twenty or so yards away.

"Well... can't say I've ever seen her lookin'… so… ah… good, either…" Horace stuttered awkwardly, wanting to support Loren, however not feeling quite comfortable with the subject matter.

"What'd you expect, her to come in a black funeral dress or something? Really," Dorothy shook her head, momentarily relieved when they were distracted by Olive and Jake joining them. Jake sidled up to Loren immediately, both men continuing to watch with awed enjoyment.

"Never thought I'd see her looking like that again," Jake muttered under his breath, Loren clearing his throat in agreement.

"What'd you think she'd look like, Jake… a _whore_?" Olive raised a single eyebrow, both men dropping their astonished faces simultaneously.

"Hey, Mr. Bray!" Brian acknowledged excitedly, as he Colleen, and Michaela joined the group, nods and smiles of welcome passing between the adults.

"Afternoon there, boy… looking forward to today, I'll bet…" Loren smiled, the young boy nodding with a Cheshire-cat smile.

"Dr. Mike… may I go see Becky?" Colleen queried, pointing in the direction of Becky's family and eagerly departing after receiving an affirming nod from Michaela.

The large group remained silent for several moments, watching Colleen leave, all realizing that they were at a loss for words. Olive, never short of a comment to break the ice, approached Michaela, everyone else gradually busying themselves in superficial conversation.

"Decided to go ahead with this whole get-up in the end, then?" The older woman smiled, both relieved when attention seemed to be shifting away from them.

"I… ah… didn't want to let Brian down…" Michaela responded softly, swallowing as she tried to fight the feeling that everyone was looking at her.

Olive nodded and took a step closer, watching Michaela's shoulders tense nervously.

"Don't you worry 'bout today… everything's gonna be fine… we'll all see to that…" Olive muttered under her breath, allowing only Michaela to hear her words.

Michaela nodded, taking several deep breaths, watching as Brian, still only several yards away, 'helped' Loren adjust his bowtie.

Sully remained several hundred feet away, perched calmly against one of the old oak trees which surrounded the meadow. He watched silently as Michaela and the children crossed the bridge and approached the small group of people, he too, aware of the disapproving and intrigued glances she received from assorted townspeople. He glanced down at the Wolf by his side, remembering their somewhat strained conversation from the night before.

"_Sully… are you gonna bid for Ma?" Brian looked up from his plate, once containing a fresh slice of apple pie._

"_Brian…" Michaela tried to put a stop to the conversation, still not quite believing she'd agreed to go through with it._

"_It's all right… I… Brian, I weren't figuring on going I have to say…" Sully placed the fork slowly down on the edge of his plate, the young boy looking across to his mother in disbelief._

"_Ma? I thought…" Brian felt his sister nudge him underneath the table subtly. He hung his head, remaining silent._

"_It ain't… ain't the sorta thing I feel right about… but if you… want me to go…" Sully suddenly felt the weight of a horse on his shoulder's, realizing Michaela may have been counting on his presence. He knew however, even if she had, she would now be too proud to admit it._

"_Don't be silly… I understand… I apologize, it was wrong of me to just assume…" Michaela looked between each of the children on her left, before reaching for Brian's now empty plate, feeling Sully's hand brush her right wrist to obtain her attention._

"_You want me there, I'm there…" He narrowed his eyes, realizing as much as he tried, she would never request his presence._

"_I said… it's fine. I don't need you looking out for me… do I?" Michaela responded defensively, her eyes dropping closed momentarily when she realized exactly how Sully had taken that._

_The room was filled with a deadly silence. Despite his frequently inappropriate comments, this was one time where Brian's conversation was welcomed._

"_So, what ya gonna wear, Ma? Can ya wear the blue dress… the one you wore when you danced with Pa… you'll sure beat Benjamin's Ma in that… please, Ma…" Brian drew a breath, expecting a kick of disapproval from someone under the table, looking somewhat awkward when none was forthcoming._

"_I hadn't really thought about it… sure if that's what you'd like…" Michaela smiled softly as the child's face lit up, her smile melting slightly, troubled anticipation clouding her mind. This was really going to be happening._

Sully looked up from his secluded position as the Reverend called the gathering of the fifty or so men, women and children to the designated area of the meadow, taking his place behind the lectern and commencing with a warm welcome. Following this he briefly outlined the purpose of the event, as well as going over a few necessary rules and outlining the auction process.

"Well, I'm sure everyone's eager to press on with the day… so let's begin… Could all the ladies… please… assemble in the clearing here, and we'll begin…" Timothy watched as his instructions were followed, soft chatter erupting from the group of men as the dozen or so ladies formed a rough gathering next to the Reverend.

Brian pushed his hands deeper into his pockets as he paced the several yards to Mr. Bray's side, the young boy's smile growing when he realized his mother really was the prettiest lady there.

"Isn't she pretty! Think she'll get the most money, Mr. Bray?" Brian turned to address his grandfather-figure, the older man seeming slightly lost in his thoughts, taking several moments to respond.

"Oh… oh, I don't know boy… but you're right… she's certainly lookin' mighty fine…" Loren clicked his lips against his gums, meeting eyes with Jake across the other side of the gathering, both aware of the possibility of an outburst erupting.

"Right… now… straightforward auction, bidding will start at two bits for each participant, be raised in two bit increments from then on, until the highest bidder is declared…" Timothy cleared his throat, aware of the light whispers and glances being passed around from the townsmen.

"Following completion of the auction process, we'll all make our way over to the hurdy-gurdy, which Olive Davis has very kindly offered us for the duration of the day's entertainment. We'll begin with the three dances to which each auction winner is entitled, followed by refreshments and more dancing if people wish…" Timothy drew a breath to continue.

"You mean if we've any strength left by that stage, Reverend…" Olive interjected, the crowd emitting gentle laughter.

"Exactly… now, there's no particular order to this… who'd like to go first?" The Reverend reached for his gavel which was laying on the lectern in front of him, the large group of women bustling nervously as nobody wished to go first.

"Oh… I'll go… best just get it over with…" Dorothy pushed through from the middle of the crowd.

"Thank-you, Dorothy… Right.., well gentlemen… who's going to open the bidding at two bids…" The reverend watched as Loren and Jake exchanged seething glances. Clearing his throat, Timothy raised an eyebrow, both men lurching forwards half a step.

"Two bits!" Jake and Loren called in unison, each looking away when they heard the other's voice. A hearty laughter was heard from the entire gathering, Dorothy bringing her hands to her cheeks, in secretly pleased embarrassment.

"Ah… all right… ah… we're on two bits… I think that was you Loren… do I hear four?" The Reverend continued, the noise dying down after several moments.

"Four bits," Jake replied smugly, his hands being stuffed into his pockets, determined to win Dorothy. This was now a competition of egos, not mere money.

"One dollar…" Loren realized exactly what Jake was planning, and decided to get as much out of him as possible.

"That's one dollar to Loren… do I hear…" Timothy was cut off by Jake instantly.

"One-fifty…" Jake nodded, Loren running his tongue along the inside of his teeth, deep in thought. He wasn't going to give Jake the satisfaction of competing with him, besides, he'd set his sights elsewhere.

"All right… one-fifty… do I hear any advance on that?" The Reverend looked to Loren expectantly, the older man looking between the grass below him and the young boy by his side.

"Aren't ya gonna bid for Miss Dorothy, Mr. Bray?" Brian frowned, knowing that they were rather friendly.

"Nah, boy… Jake'll just raise the stakes… he can't stand to lose somethin' like this…" Loren unintentionally met eyes with Dorothy, the red-haired woman tilting her head slightly, her vain disappointment obvious.

"One-fifty going once… one-fifty going twice… Thank-you, Jake… that's Mrs. Dorothy Jennings… you've got a fine dancing partner there, Mr. Slicker…" Timothy smiled, the gavel having hit the lectern three times.

A small applause erupted from the group, the next lady stepping forwards.

"Ah… Mrs. Avery… you're looking lovely today… gentlemen… shall we start the bidding at two bits…" the Reverend began the second auction smartly, everyone quickly hushing and focusing on the bidding once again.

**X.O.X**

Sully, still remaining secluded away behind the large oak, watched as the auction continued without incident.

"Well… aren't we hidden away back here…" Hank approached quietly, popping his head around the tree, a cocky smile plastered across his face.

"What do ya want, Hank?" Sully took a step away from the tree, Wolf, running back from a patch of ground he'd been sniffing, whined defensively.

"Nothin'… just came to watch all the fun… hope I haven't missed it all…" Hank looked from the dwindling group of ladies back to Sully.

"Nope…" Sully muttered, not in the least bit eager to converse with the bartender any longer than he had to.

"Thought you'd be over there, though… bidding…" Hank raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"Well, I ain't…" Sully retorted, his voice strong and unwavering.

"Finally lost interest, have ya? Realized she ain't the settlin' down and having babies type..." Hank chuckled lightly, taking a few steps backwards when he realized his comment had the potential to place him in physical danger.

"Just don't believe in it, is all… wouldn't have thought something so civilized as dancing would be your style, Hank?" Sully leaned back against the tree, his eyes darting between the auction in progress to the Saloon owner.

"Never know… I can dance, ya know… 'sides… if it's the right lady.. sure she could teach me a thing or two…" Hank turned the corner of his mouth up into a mischievous snarl, Sully reaching forwards in an attempt to catch his arm as he prepared to make his way over to the group of townspeople.

"You wouldn't dare…" Sully growled under his breath, his eyes locking with Hank's for several drawn-out moments.

"Who's about to stop me, injun boy…" Hank looked down at the several feet between their bodies, Sully realizing Hank had a point.

"Just don't even think about it… I'm warning you…" Sully looked down at the alert Wolf by his side, patting his head softly.

Hank shrugged, turning back towards the open meadow, sauntering the hundred yards or so over to the gathering.

"And at fifty cents… Robert E. is the highest bidder… congratulations… and Grace, may I add that dress is just beautiful…" the Reverend tapped the gavel lightly on the lectern in front of him, Grace crossing the small distance to Robert E's side, turning to glance at the three women still awaiting their auction.

Michaela felt a hand on her shoulder; Olive pushing her gently forwards until she was at the front of the clearing. Her jaw dropping, being thrust into the spotlight, Michaela realized this might not have been such a terrific idea after all. Her eyes moving from Olive back towards the large crowd, Michaela scanned the sea of mostly unfriendly faces, finally seeing Brian by Loren's side, his eyes lit up in pride.

"Dr. Michaela Quinn…" the Reverend began, watching more than a couple of snide whisperings taking place.

"Reverend, I really don't think…" Benjamin Avery's father interceded, remaining by his wife's side.

"Two bits!" Loren began, knowing if they just got on with it, everything would settle down.

"Thank-you, Loren… all right… we're at two bits…" Timothy cleared his throat, noticing Hank join the gathering, the Saloon owner remaining quiet.

"One dollar…" A young, blond haired rancher chuckled, although serious in his offer.

"Right… ah... that's a dollar…" the Reverend looked between Jake, Loren and Dorothy, this being exactly the situation he had feared.

Dorothy noticed the look of nervous dread flash over Michaela's face, and nudged Jake sharply in the ribs.

"You gotta do something, Jake," she whispered however realizing just as he did there wasn't anything he could do.

"I can't… I already got you… can't bid anymore," Jake replied, his voice low and exasperated as he watched sly smiles creep over several of the men's faces around him.

"One-fifty…" Another anonymous voice announced from within the crowd, Brian tugging lightly on Loren's sleeve.

"Mr. Bray… Ma ain't gonna wanna dance with someone she don't know…" The young boy looked anxiously between the gray-haired man and Michaela's numb expression.

"Don't you worry, son…" Loren squeezed his shoulder, about to speak up with an all too familiar drawl emanated from the back of the group.

"Two dollars…" Hank pushed his way through, arriving by Horace's side, the Reverend throwing a pleading look to Loren by this stage.

Michaela felt her fingers grip the fabric of her dress, her hands still clasped together behind her back, humiliation sweeping over her.

"Two-fifty…" Horace shrugged, although intending to bid for his new wife, felt he couldn't let Dr. Mike go to the likes of Hank.

"Two-seventy-five…" Hank retorted instantly, his eyes narrowed in direct competition with Horace as opposed to actually winning Michaela.

"All right… we've Hank on two-seventy-five… anyone else? Two-seventy-five going once…" the Reverend looked desperately between Michaela, Olive, Loren and Horace, aware of there being nothing he could do.

"Two-seventy-five going twice…" Timothy continued slowly, amazed that Michaela was managing to stay poised and collected, of course having absolutely no comprehension of the mortal fear running through her veins.

"Five dollars!" Loren cut in smugly, his voice thick with triumph, although his heart in the right place.

"Five… all right… well… ah… thank-you Loren… Ah…" the Reverend felt the built-up sweat trickle down his temples, noticing many others respond similarly.

"That's five dollars going once… twice… Five dollars… sold…" Timothy banged the gavel loudly on the lectern, air rushing from his mouth as he heard several individuals exhale in pure relief.

"Knew you'd fix everything, Mr. Bray…" Brian rested his arm around the older man's waist contently, the young boy's Cheshire-cat grin locking eyes with his mother immediately.

Quickly jogging across the several yards separating the town from the few remained women, Brian reached for Michaela's hand, pulling her back into the crowd, the tension in the group soon abating.

"All right… and finally we have… and I'm very pleased to announce… Mrs. Myra Bing…" Timothy continued, a small applause going up to congratulate the newly married couple.

"Don't think it's gong to be much of a competition, but you never know…" Timothy trailed off, noticing the longhaired bartender fold his arms, settling into the crowd.

"Two bits…" Horace opened the auction with a curt smile, Myra waving to him playfully.

"Four bits…" Hank coughed, a challenging grin crossing his face.

"Six bits," Horace replied instantly, Myra looking worriedly between the two men, aware of both of their determination.

"One dollar…" Hank continued, without missing a beat.

"Oh, boy…." Loren sighed, realizing this was going to get nasty.

"One-fifty…" Horace nodded, both men keeping their eyes fixed on the other.

"One-seventy-five…" Hank began idly picking his teeth with his fingernail.

"Two dollars…" Horace rested his hands on his hips, the rivaling men now only several yards apart.

"Ma… Hank ain't really gonna win her, is he?" Brian frowned, seeing the miserable look on Myra's face.

"I don't know, sweetheart…" Michaela frowned, wanting to intercede, however knowing there was nothing she could do.

Myra remained next to Olive who had stayed to keep the women company throughout the auctioning process. The young woman's face had dropped, looking up only occasionally as the bidding continued. Turning to Olive, she whispered lightly to her, the older woman nodding with a resolute smile.

"Ah… Revered… Reverend…" Myra waited until the commotion had ceased, eventually receiving the Reverend's attention.

"Ah… yes, Myra?" He stood, the gavel raised awkwardly in his hand, trying to keep up with the frenzied bidding.

"I… ah… decided I don't wanna do this… I'm ah… quittin'…" Myra looked awkwardly between Olive and the Reverend, Timothy sighing, his disappointment quickly melting into relief.

"Well, I'm afraid, men… that the woman has the right to withdraw her participation right up until the highest bidder is declared… So I'm afraid… this auction is cancelled…" Timothy watched with hidden contentment as Myra skipped back across to Horace's side, Hank flicking his hair over his shoulder in furled defeat.

"Now then… since that's everyone… If the winning bidders could come up to the front to make payment, I'd like to thank you all for your support… and will get back to you with the grand total once we've reassembled over at the hurdy-gurdy…" the Reverend watched nervously as Hank, his face contorted into an angered jealousy retreated across the meadow towards the bridge, excited chatter recommencing after several moments.

"Come on Ma… gotta get going…" Brian watched as families started the short journey across the grassy meadow towards the specified location.

"Brian, we need to wait…" Michaela tried to pull back on his arm, the small boy almost throwing her off balance in his eagerness.

"It's all right… You go ahead…" Loren nodded with a smile, still unsure as to whether Dr. Mike wanted to go ahead with this.

Getting in line with the other men, Loren noticed Dorothy make her way over to him. He hung his head, fearing she would be livid with him for not bidding higher.

"Loren Bray… if I didn't know you better, I'd think you'd had that planned all along…" Dorothy smiled softly, watching as the usually dignified and composed store owner let his face fall into a warm and tender smile.

"Yeah… well… didn't wanna see her with the likes of Douglas Avery, did I… 'Sides… she don't gotta worry 'bout me gettin' the wrong idea or nothin'… Thought it'd be easier for her…" Loren cleared his throat, Dorothy squeezing his arm.

"That was a wonderful thing to do, Loren… I'll see you for a dance… later?" Dorothy referred to the 'free' dances to be scheduled later into the afternoon.

The older man nodded, his eyelids dropping closed slowly in a calm, sincere moment as he took a step along in the line, watching Dorothy meet up with Michaela and Brian, the three moving away into the distance.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

"Matthew… are we not joining Dr. Mike?" Ingrid reached for her fiancée's arm, jolting Matthew from his pleasant daydream.

"Oh… sorry… yes, if you want to… I was just enjoying walking quietly with you…" Matthew stepped closer towards her, remaining twenty yards or so behind Michaela. Dorothy and Brian watched as assorted townspeople strolled across the meadow.

"No… we walk slower… is peaceful…" Ingrid smiled, gazing sweetly across at Matthew, before turning her eyes back in the direction she was walking.

"Thank the Lord that went off without a hitch…" Olive, remaining close to the Reverend's side, muttered, helping him to count the money as they watched everyone file towards the hurdy-gurdy.

"Had my doubts though… and fancy Hank and Horace taking on each other like that…" Timothy shook his head, slipping the money securely into a black tin box.

"I know… we were so busy worrying 'bout Dr. Mike… didn't even think of those two… at least it's over and done with… how much we raise in the end?" Olive smiled, curiously.

"Twenty four dollars and seventy-five cents, if my adding up is correct. I was just hoping for ten to fifteen… so looks like we'll be able to spend a bit more on the costumes… the children will be pleased…" Timothy collected the tin and his hat, he and Olive striding across the meadow.

**X.O.X**

"Told Benjamin you'd get more than his Ma…" Brian remained by Michaela's side, Loren looking awkwardly distracted. By now, everyone had gathered about the dance floor, children perched on fences and couples chatted quietly amongst themselves, patiently waiting for the Reverend and Olive to begin the formalities.

"Brian… that isn't very nice…" Michaela scolded softly, becoming somewhat nervous about the upcoming dances. What if Loren really didn't want to dance with her… what if he'd only bid… because he felt sorry for her. Letting her eyes drop closed momentarily, Michaela reached for her purse, handing Brian a dime.

"Sweetheart, here… have some Lemonade…" she encouraged, sighing when the boy protested instantly.

"I don't want any…" He surveyed the significant physical distance he would be required to travel and decided it wasn't worth leaving his mother's side.

"Brian… please…" Michaela's voice was more insistent this time, Brian taking the coin from her and taking a single step in the aforementioned direction.

"You ain't goin' anywhere?" He chewed on his lower lip, his head turning between Michaela and his proposed destination worriedly.

"Brian I will not move, I promise… just… go…" Michaela drew a breath, clearing her throat deliberately.

"You didn't need to do that, you know…" She waited until she'd received Loren's attention before responding.

"I know… I wanted to…" Loren, his gaze remaining firmly ahead, stretched his neck slightly.

"I don't understand," Michaela frowned, trying to study the unpredictable man's expression.

"Well… I… I… couldn't stand the idea of Hank winning ya… nor one of those ranchers… 'sides… thought… thought you'd find it… easier… if it were… someone older. Stop people talkin'…" Loren clasped his hands behind his back, slowly turning his head to gauge her reaction.

"I suppose that's best… Thank-you…" Michaela felt the words pass her lips before she realized she had entertained them, the pair meeting eyes respectfully, Loren adjusting his footing nervously.

"Just so's we're clear… I ain't got no trouble with this… I'd certainly understand… if you… felt… uneasy…" Loren found his tongue brushing over his teeth idly.

"No… I mean… I would never have agreed if I'd not intended… I mean… I'm fine with it…" Michaela felt her cheeks redden awkwardly, a self-conscious smile appearing on her face.

"Right," Loren nodded, Brian quickly running back to Michaela's side, his cup of Lemonade having spilled slightly during his energetic travels.

"Brian," Michaela sighed, ruffling his hair as he pressed against her left side, slowly sipping his drink.

**X.O.X**

Brian remained settled on the edge of the fence, Colleen standing by his side as they watch the final dance end, rapturous applause ringing out around the dance floor.

"Afternoon…." Brian turned, hearing the familiar friendly voice.

"Sully! Where've you been… you weren't here for the auction… or anything…" Brian hung his head, having missed the subtleties of the previous night's conversation.

"Here now, though… ain't I…" Sully rested up against the fence to the left of Brian, watching as the dancers began to choose new partners, Loren and Michaela turning back to the children, Sully locking eyes with her instantly.

"My turn…" Brian noticed Mr. Bray head back towards them, and jumped down from the fence about to take off towards his mother, Colleen grabbing his shoulder tightly.

"Brian, no… you go Sully…" Colleen let a small smile appear on her lips, Sully not able to break his eyes from Michaela's, however not quite able to move forwards either.

"I…" Sully felt a small hand tug on his arm, looking down to see Brian pulling him gently from the fence.

"Sully… you don't go and Brian's gonna beat you to her…" Colleen squeezed her brother's shoulder slightly, managing to restrain the young boy.

Michaela felt her lower arms and hands begin to tingle, watching as Sully moved from the fence, striding slowly, yet determinedly towards her. This was not happening… She let her eyes drop closed for a split moment, trying to calm her breathing, knowing that in a matter of moments his hand would be interlocked with hers, his arm encircling her waist, his face mere inches from her own. Aware of a sudden light-headedness threatening to engulf her, Michaela drew a forced breath, her eyes never leaving Sully's until he had arrived in front of her, as the music for the next dance begun.

No words were spoken between the couple. Michaela felt her right arm move from her side, her eyes drifting from Sully's to see their hands meet. Taking a small step forwards, she was aware of the couples beginning to move around her; willing every muscle in her body to relax, also trying to remember to breath. Michaela could read the nervousness in Sully's eyes, and it did nothing to put her at ease, relief settling in once she felt his arm around her waist. Taking another step closer towards him, Michaela watched her arm settle on his shoulder, before moving her gaze upwards to his deep blue eyes. What, in actuality, probably took only seconds, felt like hours. Every movement of his fingers on her waist and back, every adjustment of his hand in hers, Michaela perceived, trying to rationalize the uneasiness emanating from her chest.

Her attention quickly drawn to the fact that they were not moving, Michaela subtly glanced towards the couples around them. Sully awkwardly lifted one foot and began the first few steps as well as he could.

"You don't… mind…?" Sully whispered once they'd established a gentle rhythm, moving slowly around the wooden dance floor.

Michaela felt her eyebrows narrow subconsciously, aware of the not-so-discrete gestures and whispering occurring around them.

"I should be asking you that," Michaela replied after several moments, their eyes still locked together, realizing that it wasn't the dancing per se to which they were referring.

"Ain't nothin' changed… in my mind…" Sully whispered, sliding his hand further around her back, quickly shifting his gaze, so as not to make the moment any more awkward than it needed to be.

Michaela felt the blood drain from her head, his words replaying repeatedly in her mind. _Had he really just said that? Did it really not matter to him? No. She couldn't bring herself to believe that…_ She felt the distance between them narrow slightly, her breath held in her throat, the tingling returning to her arms and hands.

Sully turned his head in the direction they were traveling, allowing her time to comprehend his sentence. Aware of his fingertips gliding over the soft, light blue material of her dress, he knew there was more he wanted to say to her, but now was not the time. He knew from the whiskey incident the fortnight before that Michaela was going to need support and patience, that they had only scratched the surface of her trauma. He knew he loved her enough to grant her all the time she needed. As much as during every moment they were together he wanted to hold her, assure her of his love for her, Sully knew she was not ready for those words. That she had to feel his love by his presence, see it every day in his commitment to her. Words were no longer enough.

Michaela was miles away from reality when she realized the music was ending. Still feeling the warmth of Sully's arm around her waist, she took a desperate gasp, not realizing she'd worked herself into such an anxiety-provoked shortness of breath. Aware of the cool air entering her mouth, Michaela sensed the numbness in her arms and hands once again, everything beginning to move into slow motion. Feeling a dizziness fill her head, Michaela looked downwards, her eyes clouding over slightly, as she realized she was falling, her body sinking underneath her, her surroundings becoming darker and darker.

Sully, watching as the band finished their final notes, about to step backwards and return his gaze to Michaela, when he felt her weight on his shoulder increase drastically. Turning his head around just in time to reach for her, he managed to keep her balanced, both arms gripping Michaela's waist as he stopped her dropping any further.

"Whoa… hey…." Sully moved his head from side to side in an attempt to make eye contact with her Michaela opened her eyes after only a few seconds, appearing more weak, than startled or embarrassed.

"Ya all right?" Sully frowned in concern, bringing a hand to her chin in order to tilt her head upwards, seeing the paleness of her face.

"I… I think so… I…" Michaela took a few deeper breaths, pulling her head slightly from his grasp, taking several steps to find her balance once again.

"You've just been pushing yaself too hard… come on…" Sully looked back towards the children, fortunately neither had noticed.

Michaela was conscious of his hand still around her waist as they crossed the dance floor, arriving back to Colleen and Brian, absorbed in watching Matthew and Ingrid finish another dace, and drinking Lemonade, respectively.

"Think it's time you all head home…" Sully watched as Brian's face fell, in a complexity of relief at Michaela's closeness, and regret at Sully's announcement.

"Aw, but I ain't got to dance with Ma yet… you took her…" Brian pouted, Colleen beginning to notice the perspiration around Michaela's hairline and temples.

"Sorry Brian, ya Ma's tired… I'll ride home with ya though… looks like Matthew and Ingrid are enjoying themselves." Sully smiled, slipping his hand from Michaela's back.

"You all right, Dr. Mike?" Colleen asked quickly.

"Oh… fine… possibly just overdid it a little…" Michaela pushed several strands of hair from her face with an exhausted sigh, Brian placing his Lemonade cup down on a nearby bale of hay, grasping his mother's hand firmly as they began the slow stroll from the hurdy-gurdy back towards the wagon.

**X.O.X**

**Sunday, 18****th**** June, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Ma, can we go fishin'?" Brian turned in the wagon, patting her arm lightly to obtain Michaela's attention.

It was early afternoon, and having just returned from Church, Brian was eager for a family activity to top off his already eventful weekend.

"I have another idea… how about a horse ride?" Michaela helped Brian down from the wagon, Matthew and Colleen surreptitiously meeting eyes at Michaela's suggestion.

"A ride? You too?" Brian responded immediately, his eagerness at the chance to take Taffy for a ride anything but concealed.

"Well… I thought Flash was beginning to look a little lonely in the barn… didn't you?" Michaela smiled, looking from Brian's elated expression, towards the barn, Matthew opening the doors to put Bear back into his stall.

"Yup… Just you and me then?" Brian raised both eyebrows, his eyes brightening at the idea of a special outing, just the two of them.

Michaela looked from Matthew to Colleen, each giving concise responses.

"I gotta put Bear away, then check that loose wheel on the wagon… gonna take me until supper time…" Matthew turned to Colleen, the young girl screwing her face up immediately.

"Was gonna make a pie for supper…" Colleen explained, despite the entire family being aware of her nervousness when it came to riding.

"I suppose that's settled, then…" Michaela rolled her eyes, watching Brian race across the yard towards the barn, shaking her head as she trudged along behind him, Michaela's ulterior motive behind this outing continuing to formulate in her mind.

**X.O.X**

"Think Flash missed ya," Brian dismounted Taffy, he and Michaela securing the horses to a nearby tree before choosing a clear patch of grass to sit down on.

"I think she did, too…" Michaela sighed, having thoroughly enjoyed the riding, although realizing that perhaps she should have given it another week.

"Want some?" Brian managed to locate a stick of licorice, breaking it in half and offering it to her.

"That's very generous of you, Brian…" Michaela smiled, chewing as daintily as possible on the tough candy.

"Ma, you hate licorice…" Brian chuckled.

Michaela shrugged, realizing he was right.

"You said you only chewed it when you did the race with Flash coz you didn't wanna chew tobacco…" Brian reminded her, Michaela nodding in acknowledgement, however preoccupied with the conversation she was about to launch into with him.

"Brian… I… thought it would be nice to go for a ride, seeing as it's such a lovely warm day and all… however… there is something I wanted to talk with you about…" Michaela waited until she'd finished the small piece of candy, before continuing.

Brian rolled over onto his side, his head resting in his right hand, gazing up at her curiously.

"I wanted to talk with you… about the fact that you've been having bad dreams lately… and also… about anything else you might be feeling…" Michaela trailed off, hoping Brian would catch on and make the task somewhat easier.

"Thought I did tell ya 'bout the nightmares, Ma… the first one you died… then you were goin' away on a train… then last week was just like what happened when I couldn't find ya at the Clinic… I was running around the town askin' everyone if they'd seen ya… but no-one had… you weren't anywhere, Ma…" Brian concluded, realizing he hadn't had one in over two weeks now.

"You didn't tell me about that one, sweetheart…" She finished arranging her skirt around her, turning to gaze at her son.

"No… I… thought if I told ya, you'd get mad at me and not want to do the auction…" Brian frowned, his innocent deceit having paid off.

"I wouldn't have been angry, Brian… but I do think we need to have a proper talk about how you've been feeling… I think then, that your nightmares should stop. Brian… do you think you've been acting differently these last few weeks?" Michaela was about to reach an arm to the boy's shoulder, however realized she was trying to dissuade him from physical dependency and thought better of it.

"You mean since you got back? You mean like… coz I've been scared about somethin' bad happenin' to ya?" The young boy dropped his head, playing with several dried leaves in front of him.

"Yes, Brian… I don't only mean the nightmares, however…" Michaela moved her left hand slightly, readjusting her relaxed sitting position, looking across at the young boy on her left.

"Not wantin' to go to school… you don't want me hangin' 'round ya?" Brian moved his head only a few inches, his voice low and broken.

"Sweetheart, it's not that I don't… it's just… I want you to be enjoying your life, not worrying about me all the time. From what the Reverend has been saying, your classmates are having a lot of fun working on the play at school… yet you don't seem very keen about it?" Michaela wanted to reach across and squeeze his hand, but knew she'd just be contradicting herself if she did.

"I know… it's not that I'm not… it's just… I keep wonderin' what you're doing… and then in my head it's like… I see all these bad things happening… and I can't concentrate and then I feel really worried… and… least when I'm with ya, I don't have to worry… coz you're right here…" Brian looked up at her, his child-like explanation proving completely understandable.

"I know… but Brian, even when you are with me… you're scared to leave my side…" Michaela felt guilt having to reprimand the child for a behavior she knew was completely justified.

"I… the farther away from you I get… the longer it takes to get back…" Brian shrugged subtly, unable to put his feelings into the right words.

"Sweetheart, you're going to miss out on wonderful, fun times in your life, if you worry about where I am every minute… Brian… I want you to go fishing with Matthew, and to the creek with Steven, just like you always have. You haven't spent much time with Mr. Bray either these last few weeks. I'll bet he's been missing you." Michaela tilted her head downwards, Brian looking up in realization that she had a point.

"But what if I'm not around… and something happens…" He cringed, however significantly less dramatically than he had in the past.

"Brian, we can't spend out lives worrying about what might happen… we'd spend our entire lives in fear… and we'd never have any fun… never meet anyone new or have new experiences. There's lots of exciting things out there that you'll enjoy doing much more than staying cooped up with me… what about… catching frogs?" Michaela giggled, Brian pulling himself from the ground until he was sitting cross legged beside her, his face entertaining the idea momentarily.

"And playin' baseball," he offered, Michaela nodding, impressed at his lateral thinking.

"Exactly… what about… digging for worms?" Michaela scrunched up her face, detesting the thought, Brian chuckling in eagerness.

"Yeah… Lewis loves doin' that… then he cuts 'em in half and looks at them under the microscope…" Brian reflected on the times he'd spent with friends his own age, his mind filling with possibilities.

"See… there's a lot you will enjoy doing on your own…" Michaela again fought the urge to wrap an arm around Brian's shoulder.

"I know, Ma… just… can I tell ya if I get worried now and then though?" Brian moved his gaze between each of her eyes unsurely.

"Of course, Brian… Shall we head home, I should help Colleen with supper." Michaela watched as Brian jumped quickly to his feet, pulling herself up more slowly, her legs slightly stiff and sore from the day's riding.

The pair made their way to the horses, waiting patiently by the tree they were secured to, untying them, Brian climbed onto Taffy in a single swift movement.

"Ma?" Brian frowned lightly, Michaela hesitating noticeably between the horse and the notion of simply walking home.

"I… all right…" She shrugged, mounting the horse reluctantly, Brian taking off ahead of her, pushing Taffy into a fast trot, moving into a gallop within seconds.

"Brian!" Michaela rolled her eyes, Flash keen to follow, Michaela had not realized he was going to take her talk about 'distance' so literally.

"Come on, Ma!" The young boy called, Michaela having no choice but to allow Flash into a canter, preparing herself for what was going to be an uncomfortable ride home.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

**X.O.X**

**Monday, 26****th**** June, 1869**

_**Eight Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Thank-you, Dr. Mike…" the short, black-haired townswoman acknowledged, Michaela opening the door, Mrs. Myers stepping out onto the porch.

"My pleasure… come see me again in a week if the swelling's not subsided…" Michaela smiled, Steven's mother making her way from the Clinic contently.

Turning back into the room, Michaela closed the door, running her hands down her face with a sigh, having not had a break in over two hours.

Updating Mrs. Myers' chart in only a few minutes, Michaela found herself rearranging instruments and other assorted items on her desk, aware of the fact that she was trying to distract herself from a nagging concern.

Deciding she was going to address the matter promptly, Michaela reached for a pencil, opening another chart and beginning the step-by-step listing, resting her right hand against the side of her head as she began partitioning the crisp white paper into columns, working silently for several moments.

Finishing the time-consuming task, Michaela's mind began churning over the information before her, her mouth going dry as she stared down at the pencil against the paper. Michaela moved the fine lead instrument up and down the page, as if it would somehow change the reality before her, being interrupted by the door opening across the room.

"Dorothy… what…?" Michaela slammed the file closed immediately, the woman's presence startling her, the pencil slipping from her right hand.

"Oh, Michaela… I really shoulda knocked I know… but… but… I…" Dorothy was out of breath, having run from the telegraph office as soon as Horace had unpacked the mailbag.

"Is someone hurt… I…" Michaela pushed the chair back, standing and surveying the room for her medical bag automatically.

"No… No… it's nothin' like that…" Dorothy reassured her, the newspaper held folded behind her back. Seeing Michaela standing before her, Dorothy was unsure that she wanted to be the one to break this news to her friend.

"Dorothy…" Michaela stated impatiently, disgruntled by the rude interruption.

"I'm sorry, Michaela… Stage just arrived from Denver… thought you'd want to see…" The red-haired woman bowed her head slightly, bringing the paper from her back, reaching out slowly, Michaela taking it with an unenthused sigh.

"Dorothy... What's so important?" Michaela unfolded the latest edition of the Denver Daily Chronicle, looking between Dorothy and the newspaper in exasperated expectation.

"Bottom of the page, Michaela… I… thought you oughta read about it before it became general knowledge…" Dorothy clasped her hands at her waist, her eyes narrowing when she watched Michaela scan the front page, the Doctor's frustration apparent.

"I'm really not all that interest…" Michaela froze mid-sentence, recognizing her name within the first few lines of the final article on the page.

"I… just thought you should know…" Dorothy watched as Michaela quickly read the lengthy article, her expression remaining torn between bewilderment and apathy.

"Michaela…?" Dorothy waited until the paper was thrust back into her hands, Michaela returning to her desk, attempting to busy herself by checking her appointment schedule.

"Was there anything else?" The physician looked up, her eyes large and lifeless. Dorothy felt her forehead wrinkle in disbelief.

"You're not… gonna say anything… I mean… Michaela… that was…" Dorothy trailed off watching Michaela turn back to the list in front of her, before looking to the clock.

"Dorothy, if you don't mind, my next patient is due in five minutes…" Michaela cleared her throat implicatively, gesturing to the large clock by the door.

"Michaela… aren't you shocked, appalled… angry? Aren't you at all upset by this… that man had no right printin' stuff like this… this is personal…" Dorothy moved the folded newspaper in her hand, Michaela looking back down to the list of appointments in front of her.

"I couldn't care less… and I don't care to discuss it. Please?" Michaela gestured to the door, Dorothy shaking her head slowly, realizing that once Michaela Quinn had put an end to a topic, there was no point continuing with it.

"You just better hope the Denver Daily Chronicle don't make it's way to Boston…" Dorothy raised an eyebrow, Michaela not seeming to take-in her words.

Michaela saw the patients' names blur slightly in front of her eyes, aware of the door closing, before letting her head drop forwards to the desk with more force than she'd intended. Dorothy's words continued to linger in her mind. Looking up momentarily, Michaela reached for the first thing in sight, a textbook on psychiatry and hurtled it to the floor in intense fury. Watching the pages fan out, the cover of the book deforming slightly as it collided with the wooden floorboards, Michaela felt herself shiver, tears collecting behind her eyes, trailing slowly down her cheeks as she buried her face in her hands in a silent sob.

**X.O.X**

**Sunday, 2****nd**** July, 1869**

_**Six Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela was aware of a weight pressing down on her, first immobilizing her lower legs, and knees, before moving upwards to her thighs, an elbow digging into her stomach. Her eyes opening immediately, the only source of light was the faint shine of the moon through the window on her right. Realizing her level of movement had been severely restricted, and also that the sharp pain to her stomach was increasing, Michaela freed her arms from the tangled quilt, reaching down to instinctively retaliate against the invading presence.

"Oww…." Michaela heard a small whimper, immediately followed by a thud as something collided with the floorboards beside her. Pulling herself into a sitting position, she tried to focus her sleepy eyes on the small form on the floor next to her bed.

"You pushed me off…" Michaela recognized the voice before she was able to visually identify the figure moving from the ground beside her.

"Brian? Brian... what in God's name…" Michaela struggled to catch her breath, her fear-driven rage at such a violent awakening fuelling her bitter words.

"Ma… I… had a bad dream…" The small boy got to his feet, hanging his head slightly when he'd managed to process both Michaela's words and tone, realizing his presence had not been as welcomed as it had been on previous occasions.

"Brian… this is going to stop… right now. Go back to bed…" Michaela felt his hands reach for the sleeve of her nightgown, tugging persistently until she reacted.

"Ma… but…" The boy resorted to familiar manipulative tactics.

"Brian Cooper! Go to bed… this minute!" Michaela pulled her right arm free from the child's grasp, repeating her reprimand, her voice low, her tone cutting and succinct.

"Ma…?" Brian let his arm drop to his side, Michaela pulling the quilt back over her upper body resolutely.

"I'll talk to you in the morning…" Michaela concluded, the boy remaining by her bedside, not moving. Realizing that completely ignoring him may be her only hope, Michaela turned onto her side and let her eyes drop closed. She tried desperately to fall back into much-needed sleep.

**X.O.X**

"Dr. Mike?" Colleen called lightly, having almost stepped on her little brother as she approached the side of the bed.

"Brian? What on earth are you doin' down there?" Colleen knelt down, the boy curled uncomfortably into a bean-shaped position, fast asleep on the wooden floorboards beside Michaela's bed.

"Ma," he whispered, feeling a hand brush his shoulder, opening his eyes to the morning sunlight.

"No, Brian… it's me…" Colleen waited several moments for him to reorient himself, looking between the floor and the bed in confusion.

"You didn't sleep out here all night, did ya?" She helped him to his feet, having just awoken and dressed for the day, concerned that allowing her mother to sleep any longer may result in them all missing church.

"I dunno…" Brian still appeared somewhat dazed, nonetheless trudging back to his bedroom to dress.

"Dr. Mike… you gotta wake up…" Colleen repeated her earlier beckoning, smiling lightly when she saw Michaela's mouth twitch, followed by her eyelids fluttering and head moving slightly.

"Dr. Mike, it's nine o'clock…" The young girl stepped back from the bed, Michaela reluctantly awakening and adjusting her eyes to the bright sunlight.

"Thought you'd want me to wake you… didn't want ya to be late for church…" Colleen turned to see Brian pull the curtain closed across his sleeping area, looking back as Michaela pushed the quilt away, tossing her tangled hair over one shoulder.

"Hmm… you're right… I appreciate it…" Michaela muttered, Colleen returning to the various stages of breakfast preparation going on across the room.

**X.O.X**

"Sully! It's Sully!" Brian squealed, jumping from the wagon before Matthew had had a chance to bring it to a halt outside the homestead.

"Afternoon folks…" He greeted the family warmly, Wolf contently chasing Pup around the wagon.

"Sully… can we go fishin'… can we?" Brian reached his side, deliberately competing for the man's attention.

"Don't see why not… how was church?" Sully looked between each of the individuals, narrowing his eyes, unsuccessful in receiving any acknowledgement from Michaela.

"Was fine… nothin' special…" Matthew shrugged, watching as the girls dismounted the wagon, before following and beginning to unharness Bear.

"I'll get the poles… ya comin' Colleen?" Brian pulled his Church jacket off hastily, waiting for his sister's reply.

"Yeah… might as well… Matthew?" Colleen watched as Brian raced back into the homestead, pulling his shirt from his trousers hurriedly.

"Why not… Just give me a few moments here…" Matthew smiled, glancing between the horse and his sister, as she followed her younger brother towards the back door, disappearing quickly inside to change.

"Dr. Mike?" Sully crossed his arms around his chest, shifting his weight onto one foot, Michaela being pulled from a daydream by the mention of her name.

"Sorry?" She turned, meeting his gaze only briefly.

"You comin'?" He queried, noticing the far-away look in her eyes.

"I, don't think…" Michaela screwed up her nose slightly at the idea of fishing.

"Come on… 'sides… something I needa talk to ya 'bout…" Sully smiled a soft, non-threatening smile.

Michaela realized she was only going to mope around the homestead fretting if she didn't join them.

"Fine… I just need to change…" she glanced down at the striped dark blue dress she was wearing, the delicate white lace covering her neck and shoulders.

Sully nodded, watching as she made her way across the yard, and followed the two youngest children into the homestead. Letting a sigh escape his lips, Sully assisted Matthew in freeing Bear from the wagon.

"Dr. Mike all right?" Sully enquired, aware of her cold reception from the moment the wagon had stopped in the yard.

"Guess so… bit quiet maybe… Brian had another nightmare last night, apparently woke her up…" Matthew lowered his voice, not usually comfortable talking behind another person's back, however aware of the distress the incident had caused his younger brother. "Said she snapped at him… yelled at him to go back to bed… didn't like to mention it… only Brian seemed real mad at her all morning… and it ain't like her to brush him off… least not these days…" Matthew shook his head trying to reconcile Michaela's previous devotedness to Brian with his brother's account of the previous night's events.

"Well, you keep Brian and Colleen entertained today… I'll try and have a talk with her. Matthew… I… don't like to pry… but… Dr. Mike been talkin' to anyone recently?… I mean… with the incident over at Hank's, then the article last week… just seems like she's keepin' a lot to herself lately…" Sully rested his right arm on the side of the wagon, Matthew brushing his chin lightly in reflection.

"Guess so… I know she ain't been talkin' to Colleen… I ain't really thought about it that much… we've got our hands full with Brian at the moment… seems like Dr. Mike just wants to forget about it… not really my place to question that…" Matthew pulled the harness from the horse's back, Sully mulling over his words, continuing to assist the young man.

**X.O.X**

"Anything yet?" Colleen lent over towards her brother, watching him patiently hold the fishing pole out in front of him.

"Nah… only been five minutes though," Brian replied resiliently, Colleen smoothing her skirt around her, seated comfortably on a thick log.

"Matthew… wanna take over for me?" Sully winked knowingly at Matthew.

"Sure thing," the young man replied, taking the pole and clearing a spot on the ground several yards from Brian and Colleen.

"Where are you going?" Michaela, head balanced in her hand, looked across in Sully's direction, noticing the man get to his feet purposefully.

"_We _are going for a walk…" Sully raised a single eyebrow, almost daring her to challenge him.

Lifting her chin from her palm, Michaela sighed, tilting her head only slightly in habitual resistance, however realizing from the look on Sully's face, that any attempt at refusal would only provoke more tension.

"If you insist," she muttered, arriving smartly to her feet next to him, being led towards the trees in the distance.

"Maaa…" Brian began, his spontaneous disapproval met immediately by a sharp reprimand from his brother.

"Hush up." Matthew ordered, Brian turning his attention back to his fishing pole in a childlike sulk.

**X.O.X**

"You been awful quiet today…" Sully waited until they neared the beginning of the clump of trees, ten yards or so from the children, before initiating the conversation.

"Not especially…" Michaela responded curtly, locking her hands behind her back as they continued their slow stroll.

"Matthew said Brian got upset again… thought you reckoned he was gettin' better…" Sully realized he'd have to approach this in a sideways motion, Michaela was going to deliberately repel any direct questions.

"I believed that he was, until approximately two o'clock this morning when he… woke me up…" Michaela chose her words precisely, increasing her pace so as to convey disinterest.

"That why Brian thinks you're mad at him?" Sully pressed on, careful to keep his questions non-judgmental.

"You'd have to ask Brian…" Michaela sighed, beginning to wish she'd remained back at the homestead; at least there she could have moped in peace.

"Planning on keeping that up all day?" Sully stopped moving abruptly, his tone to the point.

"I beg your pardon?" Michaela turned to address him, her well-established edginess only being exacerbated by his words.

"That… giving a non-answer answer… Matthew told me that Brian thought you were short with him… that's not like you…" Sully continued, hating having to be so gruff, however knowing that exposing what ever was causing Michaela's moodiness, would be worth it in the long-run.

"Mathew and you have been discussing me at length, I take it?" Michaela brought a hand to her left hip, in confrontation.

"No… not about you… about Brian… but Matthew's worried 'bout ya… we all are…" Sully paused, studying her face thoroughly, neither of them speaking for a substantial length of time.

"Well, there's no need. I'm fine… Is this really what you wanted to talk with me about?" Michaela folded her arms tightly, recommencing their walk, however at a brisker pace this time.

"No, it's… it's not…" Sully cleared his throat, sighing, and continuing slowly behind her; this conversation was not going as intended.

"Then, would you mind telling me just what it was?" Michaela gazed into the distance, comparing the two pathways before her, each leading into the densely overgrown forest. Her strides never slowing, she took the route to her left, the rough, uneven surface of the ground seeming strangely appealing.

"Ain't gonna talk about it if you're ten yards ahead a me, now am I…" Sully pointed out, having determined that directly requesting Michaela to slow her pace would only be met with stubborn defiance.

Michaela looked down, her hands dropped loosely by her side, the dust and dirt caked onto the edges of her shoes. Halting in an instant, she kept her back to him, knowing Sully would catch up in mere moments. She heard the snapping of twigs behind her draw nearer, turning at a forty-five degree angle, so as just able to detect his outline, however, by no means turning towards him.

"What is it you wished to speak with me about?" She sounded cool and clinical, as if she were addressing a patient, and talking merely of a blistered finger or a mild catarrh.

"I ain't so sure now's the right time… up until the last few weeks I thought you seemed ready… now…" Sully dismissed his planned words with several movements of his head, Michaela growing frustrated.

"Now, what?" Michaela snapped defensively, her sensitivity to his comment on her behavior change apparent.

Sully brushed his hand angrily through the air, turning to walk back in the direction they'd just traveled. He couldn't talk with her when she was like this. Almost certain Michaela would object to what he had to say, Sully knew now was not the right time.

"This entire outing was your idea, remember?" Michaela retorted, wishing herself back in the homestead, alone.

"Fine…" Sully let the single word hang in midair for several seconds, Michaela's frustration just beginning to surface when he continued. "Cloud Dancin'… and Snowbird… are askin' about you. They want to see ya," He brought his gaze upwards, his eyes twitching subtly as he tried to read her reaction.

Michaela heard the two names spoken across the short distance, her mind reacting in emotive agitation before she was aware she had processed Sully's words. She felt the air remain trapped in her throat, her glance drifting beyond Sully's form until she heard his voice, pulling her back into reality.

"No-one expects you to be ready just yet… but we thought… one day…" Sully watched the blank expression on Michaela's face begin to animate, certain up until then that she would vehemently reject such a proposal.

"Where… I mean… where would we…?" Michaela met his glance, her eyes shifting awkwardly in apprehensive confusion.

"We ain't even thought about that… it's up to you… however, you know they aren't going to be welcome in town… and I don't think you should go…" He stopped, Michaela's sharp tone cutting in.

"The homestead." Michaela decided bluntly, Sully struggling to keep up with the speed of her acquiescence.

"The homestead? You sure…?" Sully queried, unconsciously frowning in disbelief that Michaela not only hadn't flatly turned down the notion, to the contrary, she appeared to be somewhat eager about it.

"I am. When?" She reiterated, glad of the distraction.

"Well… up to you… next Saturday?" Sully adjusted his belt around his waist, waiting for realization to sink in, and for Michaela to go back on her decision.

"Fine." she nodded, her voice crisp.

Sully watched Michaela clasp her hands in front of her, his gaze moving upwards until he was staring once again into her hollow eyes. He finally saw the strength she was mustering, and was able to determine that she was only agreeing to this to prove a point; she would not let him see her weakness.

"No… it's not fine. Why are you doin' this?" Sully felt his jaw drop in exasperation, extending an arm forward in desperation.

Michaela watched him observe her, feeling his stone cold eyes boring into her, reading her, searching for a way to reach her. She couldn't bear it any longer. Swallowing as she turned, Michaela felt an arctic chill once again radiating from her chest. _No. She had to be strong. She would not give in. Not again_. Beginning to walk forwards, Michaela felt the leaves crush under her feet, the silence around them being broken only by the sound of Sully's voice.

"Dr. Mike… Michaela…" Sully remained several paces behind her, satisfied that he'd gotten through to her when she stopped moving.

"Everyone's worried 'bout ya… ya think people ain't noticed how hard ya been pushin' yourself lately… Dorothy… Olive… even your own children… Everyone's tryin' real hard Michaela," Sully finished speaking, taking the remaining couple of steps forwards until he arrived less than a foot behind her, watching her head lower, hoping she would respond.

"Michaela, it ain't easy seein' someone you care about hurtin'…" Sully dropped his voice to a barely audible whisper, in anguished torment feeling the depths of her suffering. The very strength that would ensure Michaela Quinn survived what had happened, was right now pushing her further and further into stubborn isolation.

"I just wish people would stop expecting me to fall apart… I told you… I'm _fine._" She enunciated cleanly. Sully spotted the glistening of her eyes, and knew she was anything but fine.

"You call not talkin' 'bout what happened, _fine_? Gettin' yaself blind drunk over at Hank's _fine_?" He raised an eyebrow, his voice more powerful, hating himself as he demanded she reflect upon her behavior.

"I…" Michaela tried to interject, Sully continuing, knowing that once she couldn't bear the pressure any longer, she would give in and let her defenses drop.

"So, I suppose overreacting to Brian is fine… Not to mention throwin' yourself back into work too soon and wearing yourself out at the dance to the point where you pass out, _fine_?" Sully's arms were outstretched in desperation by this point, almost relieved when he saw the tears brim over the edges of her eyes.

"Stop it!" Michaela protested eventually, her jaw clenching and forehead wrinkling as she made full sense of his last statement. Holding her breath tightly in her throat once again, they remained in utter silence, a single tear running down from Michaela's right eye.

"Michaela…" Sully blinked calmly, his left arm settling on her right shoulder, Michaela pulling away instinctively from the physical contact, horrified that her vulnerability had been exposed. Her right hand clutching her skirt, she began a frantic dash along the path before her, Sully barely realizing she'd moved before she was over five yards away.

"Michaela…!" He called, certainly not having expected such an explosive reaction.

Her response was only to increase the speed of her running, her breathing forced and gasped, watching each foot appear one after the other in front of her, pressing down against the moving ground. Michaela could feel the wind brushing past her, little delicate wisps of her hair being tossed in all directions, but still she pushed herself forwards.

"Michaela... wait…!" Sully didn't want to chase after her, knowing that would be the exact response that wouldn't work, however seeing her white blouse and tartan skirt fading into the distance, gradually blurring with the bushes and trees as she ran further… and further…

Her legs ached, her throat burnt from strangled mouthfuls of air, but she knew she had to keep going. Turning, she saw him following her, her left hand lifting the other edge of her skirt slightly, allowing her to continue. Her black shoes pounded against the brown dirt, a faint rustling of dried leaves the only audible sound.

_Run. Run and he won't catch you… run and everything will go away… _she felt the tears stream from her cheeks, their saltiness invading her mouth as she fought for breath. She couldn't discern exactly what was driving her onwards, faster and faster, however Michaela knew it was fear. _Escape. You can escape this… escape him… escape the memories._

Sully continued twenty or so yards behind her, knowing that she was partly running from him, and not blaming her for it. He had pushed her too far.

"Michaela… stop… please…." Sully slowed his pace, not knowing if she had even heard him.

She continued on in utter exhaustion, her throat in spasm, trying to suck in more air, the tingling in her hands and arms returning. Michaela looked behind her once again, noticing Sully now more than thirty yards behind her, having stopped following, standing with his arms loosely by his sides. She felt light-headed, a crushing pain spreading across her chest. Michaela was about to slow her pace, realizing he had no intentions of following her any longer, when she felt her foot collide with a branch buried under some dried leaves.

Feeling herself tumbling forwards, Michaela watched the ground draw closer, her arms extended to brace her fall, managing to land relatively softly on her hands and knees, Sully arriving by her side within seconds.

"Ya hurt?" He dropped to his knees, Michaela shaking her head reassuringly, as she sat back on her knees, still struggling to catch her breath. She loathed herself in that moment. Knowing she shouldn't have run, however equally aware of how satisfying the exertion had been.

"Here…" Sully reached down to grasp her upper arm, attempting to her help to her feet, receiving a sharp slap to his hand when she pulled her arm away.

"Don't touch me," Michaela remonstrated, her voice wheezy, still trying to catch her breath.

Sully rose to his feet, taking a step backwards as he looked away, intense guilt washing over him. The day had not gone to plan. He'd not only trapped her into such a corner, she'd resorted to physical flight; he'd now lost the fragile ground he'd only just regained since the afternoon of the dance.

"Best go see if Brian's havin' any luck with those fish…" Sully exhaled miserably, hanging his head and retreating back towards the creek.

Michaela heard him depart; remaining knelt on the ground, looking at her hands resting out in front of her. Letting her eyes drop closed as she waited for the emotional disorientation to subside, Michaela concentrated on the sound of the bark and leaves crunching in the distance, ensuring the noise had faded before she pulled herself to her feet and followed after him.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

"Dr. Mike? Want me to call the boys for supper?" Colleen wiped her hands in the dish cloth, Michaela setting the final plates on the table.

"No… I'll do it…" Michaela dismissed the young girl's offer, setting the cutlery down and pacing across to the back door.

"Supper… boys!" She called flatly, Matthew appearing from the barn within seconds.

"Where's your brother?" Michaela queried, as Matthew slipped past her into the homestead.

"Thought he was out playing with Pup… knew it was nearly time to come in though…" Matthew paused, before taking his place at the table hungrily.

"Brian!" Michaela stepped out into the yard, scanning her surroundings against the fading evening light, unable to locate the young boy.

"Brian… where are you?" Michaela sighed, hearing a rustling in the nearby bushes, squinting to see Pup's head appear and start to run over to her.

"Where's Brian?" She frowned, the Wolf nuzzling her hand affectionately before whining lightly and running back in the direction he'd come from. Michaela followed.

"Brian… didn't you hear me? Supper…" Michaela reiterated, the Wolf having led her to the boy sprawled on his back, hidden between several bushes.

"Ain't hungry," he replied, not even moving. His arms were crossed over his chest, staring up into the night sky, his expression blank.

"Come on, Brian…" Michaela realized immediately he was just being difficult, however was not in the mood. Extending her hand down to help him up she repeated her instruction.

"Brian… Supper." Michaela's voice was harsher this time, the boy still not moving.

"Told ya, ain't hungry!" He rolled over onto his side, looking away from her.

Michaela looked back towards the house, tempted to just leave him there to sulk, however it was starting to get very cold and light had almost faded completely from the sky.

"Well, in any case, you can't stay out here… Come on…" She bent down to grasp Brian's right hand, his arm lying above his head.

"Leave me alone!" He pulled away to sit upright, his legs crossed underneath him, quickly locating his pocketknife and stabbing lightly at the ground.

"Sweetheart please…" Michaela exhaled, reluctantly joining him on the ground, knowing Brian didn't throw such a tantrum unless he felt it was warranted.

The two remained in silence for several moments, Michaela watching as the child destructively worked on creating a hole in the dirt in front of him.

"Brian… what's happened to make you this upset?" She raised an eyebrow, Brian stopping the digging whilst he contemplated his reply.

"You… You're angry at me… and Sully… You're angry at everyone…" He scowled at her, mouth drawn into a tight pout.

"I… I'm not angry… Brian… I… I'm just trying to… guess I'm just working too hard…" Michaela scrunched up her forehead, looking back towards the homestead, Brian feeling thoroughly confused by her response.

"So why'd you yell at me, then? You ain't never been that mean before…" Brian dropped his head, resting his chin in his hand.

Michaela reached tentatively for his free hand, not knowing whether he was going to pull away or not.

"Sweetheart… it's just… you waking me up every time you have a bad dream… means I don't get any sleep…." Michaela softened her voice, reflecting on her harshness with Brian the night before.

"But thought you said I could…" Brian's confusion continued, feeling as though, once again, the rules were being changed on him.

"Well… that was before… before I realized it was going to become a regular occurrence. Brian, you're ten years old now… I think that's old enough to be able to get yourself back to sleep, don't you?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, the young boy cringing, however eventually shrugging lightly.

"Guess so. So if you ain't mad, why'd you start actin' so strange around Sully this afternoon… at the creek… when ya both came back, ya didn't say a word to him…" Brian gently closed the pocketknife, returning it to his jacket, missing Michaela roll her eyes in exasperation.

"Because Sully… Brian… that's between Sully and myself…" Michaela cut the topic off sharply, glancing down subtly at her skinned palm.

The young child hung his head, looking eagerly for something to distract him, his stomach soon coming to mind.

"Supper, Ma…" He bounded to his feet in a single motion, Michaela, still somewhat dazed from her reflections on the day, being pulled to her feet, trailing back along after the child.

"You ain't gonna be ridin' Flash anytime soon, are ya Ma?" Brian kept his hand gripped loosely in hers, as the pair crossed the yard towards the back door.

"Why not?" Michaela replied with acute speed, her tone extraordinarily sharp, her mind reeling at the child's intuitiveness.

"Well… was just… last night… dreamt you were ridin'… and you were ridin' real fast… and you tried to jump over this log… except Flash spooked and… ya fell off…" His voice slowed by the final portion of his sentence.

"And did I die again…?" Michaela found herself subconsciously pondering the notion with remote relief.

"Nah… but ya fell on the ground and got hurt… that's when I woke up…" Brian reached for the handle of the back door, opening it considerately for his mother, who nodded in gratitude.

"What's for supper?" The boy continued, addressing everyone around the table at that point.

"Sit down and you'll find out… honestly… was just about to send out a search party…" Matthew's slightly humored tone dropped immediately on his final few words, Colleen throwing him a slightly mortified glare.

"Ah… here Brian… help yourself…" Colleen shoved the bowl of potatoes under her younger brother's nose as he took his seat, Michaela sighing, joining the children at the table, barely even aware of the conversation that had taken place.

"Who's sayin' grace, Ma?" Brian placed the spoon back in the bowl beside him, reaching out his hand towards Michaela's for the blessing.

"You go ahead…" She forced a small smile, Matthew still feeling slightly ashamed as he took her other hand, the four of them bowing their heads as Brian recited one of his well-rehearsed, slightly long-winded prayers.

**X.O.X**

**Wednesday, 5****th**** July, 1869**

_**Three Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Just some coffee, thank-you Grace…" Dorothy smiled, scanning the tables of the café for someone to sit with.

"Take a seat…" Grace smiled, Dorothy taking a seat by herself, with a sigh, Grace quickly arriving with the pot of coffee.

"On your own… not like you?" The Negro woman commented unemotionally, pouring the steaming liquid into the metal cup.

"No, I suppose not… asked Michaela to join me, she weren't interested…" Dorothy glanced back towards the Clinic, somewhat hoping her friend had changed her mind.

"Well, still quiet 'round here… I fancy gettin' off my feet for awhile…" Grace smiled warmly, as she pulled a chair from the table and sat down.

"Good for you…" Dorothy trailed off, shifting her attention to the cup of coffee held in her left hand.

"Somethin' troublin' ya?" Grace folded her arms on the edge of the table, noticing Dorothy's lifelessness.

"Oh… I don't know… guess I'm just worried 'bout Michaela… She don't usually turn me down for mornin' tea…" Dorothy muttered, taking another sip of coffee.

"Well… maybe she's busy?" Grace suggested, reaching for an empty cup and filling it with steaming hot liquid.

"No… was just over there… ain't tending to anyone… just absorbed in a textbook… been actin' funny for a week or so now… Ever since that article arrived from Denver…" Dorothy looked back towards the Clinic once again, her shoulders falling in confirmed dismay.

"Well, don't ya see… poor thing's probably terrified her family's gonna find out 'bout what happened…" Grace shook her head, convinced in the logic she was attempting to impart.

"That's exactly it… she didn't seem to care one bit about the article… too busy pouring over work… just like today…" Dorothy sighed, Grace smiled softly with a shrug of a single shoulder.

"Well... 'least she's stayin' clear a Hank's… that's enough to put my mind at ease…" Grace widened her eyes as a flash of relief swept across her face.

"What's that supposed to mean, Grace?" Dorothy frowned, shaking her head slightly in confusion.

"Oh… nothin' I don't reckon… just… well… nothin'…" Grace frowned awkwardly, looking down at her hands clasped in front of her.

"Grace… if I didn't know you better… I'd think you were keepin' something from me… If there's somethin' goin' on that I should know about…" Dorothy squinted at her seriously, the reporter in her knowing when she was getting the brush-off.

"Well… no… ain't right… promised Dr. Mike I wouldn't tell no-one…" Grace pulled her jaw down tightly, feeling trapped between secrecy and concern.

"Grace… I'm Michaela's best friend… if something's happened… I've a right to know. I want to be able to help her as much as anyone…" Dorothy watched Grace's eyes dart from side to side in contemplation, quickly ensuring they were alone before continuing.

"'Bout a month ago… Dr. Mike had to treat one a Hank's girls… it really shook her up, I'd reckon, because Hank ended up… dealing with it…" Grace tried to search for the right words, Dorothy cutting her off in disbelief.

"On, come off it, Hank ain't exactly the talking type…" Dorothy narrowed her eyes, Grace continuing.

"No… he didn't _talk_... he gave her… she… drank… too much…" Grace dropped her eyes, Dorothy's mouth opening in a silent gasp.

"Grace… tell me you're…" Dorothy squeezed on her arm pleadingly.

"Look, she was upset… can't say I blame her…" Grace took a breath, about to continue when Dorothy cut her off.

"Heavens, I ain't blaming her. I'm just surprised… what… was she all right?" Dorothy leaned closer towards Grace, her worried concern apparent.

"Not especially… I mean… Myra took her back to the Clinic, I sat with her… she threw up, slept it off and she was fine, I guess… but… the things she said Dorothy; ain't no-one got any idea what she went through out there…" Grace swallowed, remembering the terror she'd seen in Michaela's eyes.

"Well, we knew it was bad, Grace… knew that two minutes after they'd got her back to town. What'd she say?" Dorothy's subtly having just been exceeded, undisguised curiosity taking it's place.

"Nothin' I feel too comfortable repeating…" Grace wiped a hand over her forehead, trying to convey the gist of Michaela's words. "Well… I ain't entirely sure… she weren't making a lot of sense… but that she couldn't fight because he had a knife at her throat… and that she was worried about the children… but by the time she wanted to fight, she physically couldn't. Then when she realized Sully weren't dead… she feels she betrayed him somehow… I don't know how much of it was the whiskey talkin'… but one thing came through… she was petrified. Feels like she ain't got no-one who's gonna understand that. I reckon she believes she shoulda let herself die out there… so now she's stuck, feelin' guilty for survivin'." Grace looked across to Dorothy awaiting a response, however a figure which moved towards her caught her attention.

"Morning, ladies…" Jake smiled politely, pacing around the table to the empty chair on Dorothy's left, about to take a seat.

"This happens to be a private women's conversation, Jake Slicker… you were not invited…" Grace's voice was low, she was not amused by his cheerfulness.

"I dunno… always thought I had a… feminine side…" Jake shrugged lightly, pleased when Dorothy gestured to the empty chair beside her, the redhead remaining silent, deep in thought.

"So… ah… what's this secret women's business all about…" Jake fluttered his eyes, assuming it was clothing or the like.

"None a ya business, Jake… coffee?" Grace pulled the chair back in frustration at the man's boldness.

"Please…" He smiled in acceptance, turning to study Dorothy's distracted expression.

"A penny for your thoughts...?" Jake waved his hand in front of her face, obtaining her attention in a moment.

"You wouldn't want them… trust me…" Dorothy sighed, staring down at the cup of now cold coffee beside her left hand.

"You two ain't still goin' on about that article from Denver, are ya? Horace destroyed all the copies that arrived… ain't no-one seen it but… what… you, me, Horace…?" Jake raised an eyebrow, enquiring as to whether or not that was the extent of the distribution.

"Michaela." Dorothy cupped her chin in her hand, Grace pouring Jake's coffee before returning to several other customers.

"You _showed_ it to her... what'd you wanna do a fool thing like that for…?" Jake's eyes scanned Dorothy's face frantically, shaking his head in utter bewilderment.

"Because… it happened to concern her… not that she cared," Dorothy replied, still trying to accept Grace's words from minutes earlier.

"You got a point there… too busy actin' like nothin's happened… knew that auction thing was a bad idea…" Jake sipped on his coffee, expecting Dorothy would catch on immediately to his meaning.

"Don't think it was such a bad idea… went off without a hitch… really seemed to be enjoyin' herself too…" Dorothy smiled, remembering just how romantic she and Sully had looked as they'd moved round the dance floor, believing for a moment that nothing had changed between them.

"Maybe she was enjoyin' herself a little too much, then… think all that lovey-dovey stuff musta gone to her head…" Jake swooned his head in imitation playfully, realizing from the confused look on Dorothy's face that she hadn't witnessed Michaela's collapse.

"Ya didn't see, did ya? Sully had to just about stop her hittin' the floor… Lucky she weren't still dancin' with Loren… all I can say… wouldn't a known what to do…" Jake watched his words sink in slowly, Dorothy's reply paced.

"You mean she passed out? When?" The redhead wasn't able to determine which bothered her more; concern for her friend's health, or regret that she'd not witnessed it.

"Right near the end… after she danced with Sully… went all pale, started sweatin' real bad… then… down…." Jake dipped his hand indicatively.

"She was all right?" Dorothy's eyebrows rose immediately.

"Oh… yeah… fine, don't think anyone really noticed, 'cept Olive and I…" Jake continued drinking his coffee, Dorothy gazing off into the distance, deep in thought.

**X.O.X**

**Thursday, 6****th**** July, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"You sure you're feelin' all right, Dr. Mike…?" Colleen frowned, handing Michaela the newly washed plate from supper.

"No, Colleen… I'm not… but I'd appreciate it if you'd stop asking…" Michaela took the dish, drying it slowly, Brian pacing in frustration around the homestead, stomping his feet.

"Just… you didn't eat any supper… and I was worried that…" Michaela cut the young girl off abruptly.

"Colleen." She silenced her with a single strained word.

"Ma… when ya finished, can we play checkers?" The young boy, his hands entwined in his overalls pleaded, Matthew still outside finishing chores.

"No, Brian… it's late…" Michaela sighed, willing herself to stop feeling tired, however not managing it.

"It ain't that late… only nine… one quick game… please….?" He continued, pacing across to the shelves to the right of Colleen, pulling the checkers board out in manipulative hopefulness.

"I said no, Brian… and I meant it!" Michaela placed the newly dried plate down on the bench a little too loudly, Brian dropped the board to the floor in frustration.

"Pick it up, Brian…" Colleen glared at him, Michaela still absorbed in her vocal outburst from moments earlier.

"No! It ain't fair!" He kicked the board away lightly, turning around to stomp wildly across the room, Michaela meeting him after several seconds, her hands grabbing his shoulders in fury.

"Life is not fair, Brian! Grow up!" Michaela felt her breath quicken, as her voice rose in both anger and volume with each word. Realizing she'd lost her temper with the small child, she paused, forcing her voice to soften, gesturing towards the children's sleeping area. "Just… go to bed…" Michaela sighed wearily.

Colleen watched the display pan out before her, completely frozen, aware of nothing besides the water dripping from the plate she held in her hands, down her arms and onto the bench in front of her.

"Night…" Brian muttered almost inaudibly, his chin trembling, eyes filled with tears as he slid slowly across the floorboards and onto his bed, the only sound being heard was the scuffing of his shoes.

Michaela turned back to Colleen, the pair finished the dishes in complete silence, the young girl making her way to bed without a single word, Michaela doing likewise.

**X.O.X**

**Friday, 7****th**** July, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela rolled over onto her back, the morning sunlight streaming into her eyes, feeling as though she'd not slept a minute. Brushing her hair back with her right hand, Michaela rested her head in her hand, determining that, despite not feeling like it, she really did need to get up and begin the day. Pushing the patchwork quilt aside, Michaela pulled herself up into a sitting position, about to swing her legs to the side of the bed, when she froze suddenly. Her eyes opening fully, she glanced downwards, conflicting emotions of shook and relief flooding through her mind. Sliding from the bed to her feet, Michaela grabbed frantically for her dressing gown, throwing the quilt messily back over the bed, as she dashed across the homestead towards the back door, unaware of the coldness of the floorboards underneath her, as she slipped through and out into the yard.

Colleen, having opened her eyes only moments before, heard the sound of movement before she saw it, watching quietly as Michaela rushed past their beds and through the door. Frowning lightly, Colleen glanced across at the sleeping boy opposite her, trying to rationalize Michaela's turbulent behavior over the previous few weeks.

Slipping out from under the covers, Colleen ensured Brian was still sleeping soundly, before creeping to the back door, opening it slowly just as Michaela disappeared into the outhouse. Remaining stationary in the ajar door, the young girl narrowed her eyes, her worry only increasing. Gently pushing the door closed once again, she made her bed, and dressed quickly for the day ahead; hoping that at least Brian's demanding behavior would have improved overnight.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

"All ready, sweetheart?" Michaela smiled, squeezing Brian's shoulder as he finished the glass of milk in front of him.

"S'ppose so… hey… Colleen… didn't the Reverend say Steven's Ma's gonna come fit us for our costumes, today?" Brian shoved the final mouthful of breakfast into his mouth, looking across at his sister, who was scraping the leftovers into a bowl for Pup.

"Yeah… thought so… and Miss Dorothy's gonna have the script ready Monday, too… so we can start rehearsing properly," she replied, looking strangely between Michaela and Brian, noticing her mother's polarized mood swing.

"And just who are you, then?" Michaela cupped her chin in her left hand watching the boy's face light up with interest.

"A guy… and I have to kiss _her_…" Brian chuckled with embarrassment, pointing to Colleen, who rolled her eyes, finding Brian's coyness quite cute.

"Only on the cheek, Brian…" Colleen shook her head, Michaela raising an eyebrow, watching the children banter playfully.

"Nah… and at the end, when we…" Colleen gave him a mockingly serious glare, reminding him that the ending was a secret. Brian trailed off quickly, breaking out in a wide grin as he pushed his chair back and took his empty plate over to Colleen.

"Oh, you're not going to tell me?" Michaela dropped her head, pretending to be upset.

"You'll see Ma… it's a surprise!" Brian headed towards the back door, disappearing quickly to help his older brother prepare the wagon for the trip into town.

"Can't quite believe that's the same child as last night, somehow…" Michaela raised her eyebrows in disbelief, finishing the cup of tea in front of her thoughtfully.

"And he ain't the only one… you've certainly woken up on the right side of the bed this morning…." Colleen ventured, hoping Michaela would take the compliment warmly.

"Let's just say… I'm feeling… relieved…" Michaela began removing the spare utensils and unused cups from the table, stacking them back on the shelf across the room, Colleen nodding in silent understanding, no further words needing to be spoken.

"So… ah… do ya know if Sully's comin' for supper tonight…" Colleen asked, unable to hide her smile; a result of Michaela's good mood, as well as the remembrance of the pair of them dancing the afternoon of the auction.

"I guess so… seems to be a Friday night tradition… of sorts…" Michaela scanned the room, spotting her medical bag on the mantelpiece over the fire.

"Yeah… and it really bothers you… sure…" Colleen flashed a cheeky grin in Michaela's direction, drying her hands and making her way towards the front door.

"_Colleen_…" Michaela attempted to sound disapproving, however merely bursting into a slightly self-conscious chuckle, medical bag in hand, she followed Colleen through the front door, closing it behind them.

"All set?" Matthew asked, seated in the wagon, Brian by his side.

"I think so." Michaela settled into the wagon between the two boys. "Matthew… what have you got planned for today?" She took the reins.

"Gee-up," She encouraged, Bear moving forward obediently.

**X.O.X**

"Your arm looks fine, Louise… does that hurt?" Michaela gently palpated the young child's lower arm, her fractured radius now appearing completely healed.

"Uh-uh," the four-year old girl replied with a bright smile, watching with intrigue as the Doctor moved her arm gently, rotating her hand delicately.

"Now?" Michaela repeated, the young girl's bubbly smile sufficing as response.

"Oh, thank-you so much, Dr. Mike… we were just so worried, ya hear all sorts a stories 'bout deformities and children livin' in pain… but she's good as new…" Mrs. Harrison commented, Michaela quickly checking the girl's radial pulse, lifting her down from the examination table.

"She's a strong girl… and you did the right thing bringing her to me straight after… was it the horse, Louise?" Michaela bent down to confirm the events leading up to the broken arm six weeks ago.

"Yeah… was just practicing ridin' Phantom… and I couldn't reach the reins… that's when I slipped… and 'oww'…." She indicated towards her arm, her childlike exuberance being maintained throughout the story.

"'Oww' was right, sweetheart… you tell your Ma though, if you arm starts hurting anymore…" Michaela led the girl by the hand to the door, Mrs. Harrison handing her the five dollar coin gratefully.

"I'll make sure she stays off that horse, too… not until you're six, young lady…" Louise's mother took the young girl's arm, leading her through the Clinic door out onto the porch.

"If there are any problems, don't hesitate to come see me again…" Michaela returned the small girl's friendly wave, before retreating back inside, clearing up the remainder of the girl's sling and bandages, about to check her appointment schedule when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in…" Michaela glanced at the list in front of her, checking that she didn't have any appointments due for the rest of the day.

"Afternoon, Michaela…" Dorothy entered the clinic, a slightly reserved smile on her face.

"Dorothy… everything all right?" Michaela removed her apron, laying it gently across the examination table.

"Fine… wondering if you… ah… nothin'…" Dorothy suddenly felt a nervous quietness fall over her.

"Afternoon tea?" Michaela raised an eyebrow suspiciously, a knowing smile appearing on her face.

"Ah… only if you want to… didn't want to ah… disturb you… just Loren got sick a me fussin' 'round the store… was gonna head over to Grace's…" Dorothy rambled, realizing her double-talk was beginning to confuse even herself.

"Don't be silly, you're not a bother… I just saw my last patient, everything seems quiet here… I'd love to…" Michaela crossed the room; Dorothy remaining perched uneasily against the door, Michaela's cheerfulness throwing her into uncertainty.

"You would? Michaela… I… are you all right? You seem… I mean… you look…" Dorothy shrugged, realizing how petty her now unwarranted concern had been.

"Everything's fine… let's go…" Michaela rolled her eyes, slipping a hand around Dorothy's shoulders as they made their way out onto the porch, Michaela closed the door as the pair strolled side by side towards Grace's.

**X.O.X**

"Oh, Sully… that just looks absolutely magnificent!" Michaela exclaimed, as Matthew placed the freshly roasted turkey down on the edge of the table.

"You're welcome… didn't think I was gonna have any luck… but then… just appeared outa nowhere…" Sully watched as Matthew carefully began slicing the meat and transferring it onto people's plates.

"Yeah, Sully… it's great…" Brian reached eagerly for Colleen and Sully's hands, knowing that the sooner they started the blessing, the sooner they could eat.

"Thanks, Brian…" Sully took his hand, the five of them lowering their heads, Colleen quickly taking care of grace, everyone hungrily beginning to devour their supper.

"So, what's happening tomorrow, Sully? Can we go swimmnin'?" Brian had become accustomed to their regular Saturday outings.

"No, Brian… need to speak to ya Ma 'bout tomorrow…" Sully met eyes with Michaela briefly, unsure as to whether she still wanted to proceed with the pre arranged meeting.

"You do?" Michaela frowned, something niggling at her, although unable to recall specific details, very unlike her.

"Later…" Sully dismissed with a small smile, Michaela's jovial mood refreshing, however somewhat surprising.

"Aww, Sully… is it a surprise? I wanna know… please?" Brian begged, turning to Sully with his most pleading pout.

"Brian…" Colleen warned, Michaela glancing at Sully indicating for him to discuss whatever it was he was planning freely, having absolutely no recollection of the week before.

"Well… thought I'd bring Cloud Dancin' and Snowbird around… tomorrow afternoon… go fishing… or swimming… whatever someone wants…" Sully had turned to Brian's expectant face at that point, only seeing Michaela drop her fork to her plate out of the corner of his eye. Nonetheless, Brian's excited giggle was no distraction however, and he turned back to her with a worried glance.

"You said you didn't mind…" Michaela cut him off instantly, Matthew and Colleen appearing visibly apprehensive.

"No… it's fine… I'd just… forgotten…" She slowly grasped the fork in her left hand once again, her mind clouding with emotion, her anxiety unwittingly building.

"Didn't think you sounded too sure last week… wanted to double check. You know you don't have to… they'll understand…" Michaela had glanced from each of the children's faces as Sully spoke, Matthew and Colleen looking apprehensively supportive, Brian remaining naively enthusiastic.

"Sully, I said it's fine." Michaela's voice was resolute, everyone slowly absorbing themselves back in the food on their plates, Sully glancing across occasionally between mouthfuls, trying to meet Michaela's gaze.

**X.O.X**

"Am serious, Dr. Mike… you're havin' second thoughts… and it's cancelled…" Sully had stepped out onto the front porch, the children busy inside, Matthew and Brian playing checkers, Colleen reading.

Michaela turned, looking around at the voice, staying seated quietly on the top step. Sully crossing the small distance to her side, taking a seat an appropriate distance from her.

"No… I… I'm not having second thoughts, by any means… I'd just... forgotten." She shook her head lightly, surprised at her memory lapse.

"Well… you were pretty upset last week… ain't no problem… I'll go and…" Sully was about to continue, Michaela and he speaking simultaneously.

"I was just…" She stopped looking across at him, each breaking into an amused chuckle, Sully gesturing for her to continue.

"It's nothing… I just… I wanted to apologize for last week… I know I've not been the best company recently…" Michaela watched as Sully began studying her face again, his eyes moving slowly, not saying a word.

"What… what were you going to say…?" Michaela swallowed uneasily in response to Sully's lingering stare, knowing he was only being himself, however starting to feel thoroughly uncomfortable.

"Well… what I _was_ gonna say… weren't what I _am_ gonna say… what I am gonna say, is that I'm… real proud a ya… and I want you to know. Cloud Dancin' and Snowbird both just want you to be comfortable… Now Snowbird's worried 'bout ya… she really looks up to you… Cloud Dancin' feels ashamed… feels responsible…" Sully watched Michaela's face drop, as she looked away, realizing what they were both really talking about.

"I know… but there's no reason… it wasn't like he was…" Michaela let her eyes drop closed but fluttered them back open immediately when her consciousness was overcome by a flashback.

"He knows that… but ya can't help it… you don't think I feel just as… responsible?" Sully noticed the opportunity to broach the subject, sensing Michaela would be in a more receptive mood.

"Sully… don't…" Michaela looked across at Wolf, head on his paws, watching them from the grass.

"We need to… talk about this…" Sully saw his hand move automatically from his knee, about to reach for her, however quickly dropping it to the step, realizing he didn't want to push her again.

"Just not… yet… I just… I've missed the children… you… please, I just want some time to enjoy that… I don't want to remember, yet…" She trailed off, drawing a strained breath.

"You ain't ever gonna forget, Michaela… neither am I… it ain't about forgettin'… it's about being able to live in spite of rememberin'." He reached for her arm, expecting her to pull away. Slowly, their gazes moved from his fingers locked lightly around her small wrist, upwards, until they were facing each other, both their eyes filling with tears.

"When you're ready, Michaela… I'll be here…" Sully released his grasp, Michaela let her eyelids close softly, hearing him stand and make his way back inside.

"Who's winnin'?" Sully folded his arms with a slightly forced smile, sitting on the edge of the bed behind Brian.

"Matthew… he jumped on me twice… now I'm trapped…" Brian raised his arms in playful defeat, Matthew chuckling devilishly, moving the checker piece one step forwards.

"You've thrashed me plenty a times… this is payback…" Matthew responded, Brian moving his single remaining piece to the only available square.

"Sorry little brother…" Matthew shrugged his shoulders, triumphantly carrying out the final jump, removing Brian's piece from the board.

"Aww, man…" Brian hung his head, Sully patting his shoulder in condolence.

"You'll get him next time… 'sides, only a game…" Sully managed to capture Brian's attention away from his recent 'tragedy', the small boy crossing his legs and changing the subject.

"Are Cloud Dancin' and his wife really comin' over tomorrow? Did Ma say yes?" Brian diverted his focus swiftly to the new conversation, Matthew glaring doubtfully at Sully as he packed up the game.

"Yeah… she did… thought we'd go down the creek, you can go swimmin', or just fish if you want?" Sully offered, starting to wonder just how the reunion would be carried out.

"Swimmin'… ain't been swimmin' in ages…" Brian's eagerness surfaced immediately, Colleen's attention being pulled from the book she was engrossed in.

"Dr. Mike… really said yes?" Colleen repeated, barely believing it.

Sully nodded, with a warm smile, Brian frowning as he slowly pieced all the information he'd be storing together.

"But the Indians hurt Ma… ain't she mad at him… ain't she scared a him?" Brian turned back to Sully, pulling himself forwards, splayed across the middle of the bed, head in his hands.

"No, Brian… because… you remember, it was the renegade Indians who hurt Dr. Mike… Cloud Dancin' and Snowbird feel bad about what's happened… So tomorrow, Brian… I'm gonna stay with Dr. Mike, Cloud Dancin' and Snowbird, we're all gonna talk for a bit… you and Colleen and Matthew can go swimmin'?" Sully offered, Matthew nodding supportively, indicating he would once again keep his siblings under his wing.

Brian nodded, understanding as much as was possible given his tender age.

"Sully? I don't gotta hate Cloud Dancin', do I?" The young boy looked up, his mind in conflict.

"No, Brian, 'course not. You just remember Cloud Dancin', Snowbird, and the rest of the Cheyenne villagers are still our friends." Sully reassured, and rubbed the boy's back. Colleen and Matthew exchanged not-so reassured expressions. This wasn't going to be easy.

**X.O.X**

**Saturday, 8****th**** July, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Perhaps this is not a wise decision?" Cloud Dancing, Sully and Snowbird dismounted their horses still fifty or so yards from the homestead.

"No-one's sayin' this is gonna be easy… but we have to try. Dr. Mike assured me she's ready… and just as long as we take things slowly… it'll be fine." Sully brushed the man's upper arm, seeing his mournful nervousness.

"He is right. We have not got the right to be afraid... we are not the ones with reason to feel fear…" Snowbird observed, she and Cloud Dancing noticing the homestead in the distance.

"The spirits have spoken of trouble… of great pains to come… I fear this meeting is what they speak of…" Cloud Dancing, Snowbird and Sully watched as Michaela and the children appeared from behind the front door, each lining up along the porch railing, Brian spotting the approaching trio immediately, pointing eagerly.

"It will be all right… Come…" Snowbird reached for her husband's hand, continuing their slow walk along the path leading to the homestead.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

Brian remained still on the verandah, his hands draped over the edge of the railing, looking between Matthew and Michaela for a response. Tugging lightly on Matthew's arm when he saw Cloud Dancing and Snowbird approaching, the young boy was brought into line, Matthew resting a finger against his lips.

"Dr. Mike… you still don't have to…" Colleen saw the apprehension appear faintly across Michaela's face, the young girl reaching a hand to her mother's shoulder, gesturing back towards the homestead.

Michaela didn't reply, merely stepping from the young girl's side, making her way down the steps from the porch, clasping her hands in front of her as Sully, Cloud Dancing and Snowbird approached.

"Wanna walk to the creek? Think Brian's got his heart set on swimmin'…" Sully looked between Michaela's detached and blank expression to Cloud Dancing's extremely nervous one, before gesturing in the direction of the creek, the three Cooper children moving from the porch to behind Michaela as the group began their silent walk.

**X.O.X**

Brian ran eagerly ahead of the others, spotting the warm, inviting water of the creek, Matthew and Colleen following with a forced enthusiasm.

"You are looking well, Dr. Mike…" Snowbird moved her glance from the path they were traveling, to Michaela's face, her words direct and open.

"Yes… I… I'm fine…" Michaela let her clasped hands fall to her sides, feeling a substantial amount of tension drop, grateful that someone had finally spoken.

"And your work… How is that?" The Cheyenne Medicine Man continued, sensing a relaxed atmosphere between them.

"Busy… as always. That reminds me… do you think we might… I mean... would you mind helping me find some willow bark and chamomile…" Michaela saw the smile spread across Cloud Dancing's face, her uneasiness quickly abating.

"Of course… I know… with this heat… it is harder to find…" The adults were distracted by Brian's chirpy voice, carrying over to them from the creek.

"Look at me, Ma! See, I'm balancing…!" The young boy called, still fully clothed, as he somewhat over-confidently stepped along a narrow log running beside the edge of the creek.

"Brian… be careful! You could…" Michaela sighed, shaking her head with an exasperated smile, as a loud splash was heard.

"Fall…" She finished, as the child rose to the surface of the creek coughing and spluttering. The six people nearby chuckling warmly, as the embarrassed and shocked boy caught his breath.

"Aw man…" Brian waded to the shore, quickly removing his soaked clothes and submerging himself back in the cool, refreshing water.

"Sure didn't seem to bother him too much…" Sully commented, Michaela and Snowbird still laughing, exchanging smiles of maternal understanding.

"Children… they are nature's way of always reminding us there is hope for the future…" Cloud Dancing observed, with a wisdom and tenderness only he could convey.

Michaela was the first to drop her cheerful expression, Snowbird following, as the group came to realize what each other was mulling over.

"Snowbird… I… I'm sorry…" Michaela broached the subject without hesitation, the Indian woman looking across to meet her eyes in silent understanding.

"It was meant to be… we have made peace with it…" Snowbird accepted Michaela's words, Sully and Cloud Dancing exchanging knowing glances.

"I wish there was something I could have done to stop it… I feel responsible…" Michaela could still hear the gunshot ringing in her ears, feel the ground moving under her feet as she kept on running, knowing she was leaving their son to die.

"No. He knew what he was risking… that was his choice…" Cloud Dancing attempted to reassure her, no trace of blame in his voice.

"But it was all for nothing…" Michaela averted her gaze, Cloud Dancing stepping forward only slightly, his voice rich and soothing.

"Dr. Mike… it is not our place to question fate… we can only accept the outcome of life… to heal… and move on…" Another uncomfortable silence ensured, the four realizing Cloud Dancing was not merely referring to Walks on Cloud's death.

**X.O.X**

**Sunday, 9****th**** July, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"I'm gonna go get Sully…" Brian announced the moment the family had descended the steps from the church.

"All right… make sure he's finished at the gravesite first, though…" Michaela reminded the young boy, Brian nodding in rushed acknowledgement, before continuing off towards his friend.

"Heya, Sully…" Brian approached the white picket fence surrounding the cemetery, just as Sully stood from Abigail's grave.

"How was church?" Sully dusted the knees of his buckskins, before wrapping an arm around Brian's shoulders, Brian glancing curiously at the grave Sully had been visiting.

"All right, I guess… Hey, Sully…?" Brian looked up at him questioningly.

"Yup?" Sully was about to direct the child over to the grassy area where people were setting up for picnics, when he sensed something troubling the young boy.

"Woulda been different wouldn't it… if Miss Abigail ain't died… you and Ma wouldn't be friends…" Brian hung his head, reflecting on the many paths life could take.

"Well… don't know 'bout that, Brian… like to think we'd be friends… but you're right… wouldn't be the same…" Sully watched as Michaela, Ingrid, Colleen and Matthew made their way from the wagon to the meadow, noticing the smiles and giggling plastered across their faces.

"Wouldn't be the same if Ma hadn't died either… wouldn't be livin' with Dr. Mike…" Brian dropped his head, feeling confusion and regret at his words.

"Dr. Mike's been all right though, ain't she? Seemed fine yesterday…" Sully looked across in the direction of the meadow, Michaela and the three younger people deciding on a suitable spot for the picnic rug to go.

"Yeah, she's been real good… least for a couple a days… before then... she acted like she didn't even like me… was... kinda scary…" Brian hung his head, his confidence in Michaela's regard for him still not completely restored.

"You ain't gotta worry 'bout that… your Ma loves you… Sometimes, Brian... when bad stuff happens, the hurt we feel, makes it look to other people like we don't like 'em… when Abigail died… I was real angry at the world, Cloud Dancin' was the only person who was able to understand, it was just coz I was hurtin' on the inside… he knew I needed support… and time… same as Dr. Mike…" Sully frowned slightly,, turning back down to the young boy to ensure he had understood his advice.

"Guess so…" Brian pushed his hands into his trouser pockets, only mildly convinced.

"What about here, then?" Michaela gestured to the nice green grass, Matthew flinging the patchwork rug out in front of him, Ingrid grabbing a corner, as Colleen set the picnic basket down nearby.

Michaela ran towards the third corner, Matthew and Ingrid giggling as they pulled it away from her.

"Colleen… here…" Matthew chuckled, the young girl reaching for the third corner, as the group continued their 'keep-the-rug-away-from-Michaela' game.

"Matthew…" Michaela spun around several times, the youngsters running around her, squealing and giggling in fun, managing to once again prevent Michaela from getting to the rug.

"Brian… trust me, everything'll be all right… you got any problems, you be sure come and talk to me, all right?" Sully squeezed the boy's shoulder affectionately, Brian nodding with a faint smile. The pair turned and began a slow pace back towards the meadow, smiles breaking across their faces when they observed the game going on twenty or so yards away.

"Colleen… quick… quick…" Matthew bellowed jovially, Michaela only inches from being able to grab the rub, before Colleen pulled it in the opposite direction once again.

"This is silly…" Michaela rolled her eyes, however thoroughly enjoying the pointless exercise.

"Ah… that's just coz ya can't get it…" Matthew ran around behind Michaela, the rug still in his hand, as Ingrid followed, Colleen by her side.

Michaela shook her head, deciding to go along with their fun, despite the hot sun bearing down on them. Turning towards them, she continued to spin around several times as they ran behind her in the opposite direction. It wasn't until she looked towards Colleen after the third turn, that Michaela felt her center of gravity dropping away from her, the girl's cheerful face blurring somewhat, as Michaela squinted to see clearly. In the same motion, she took a step towards them, about to clasp the rug, when the darkness returned to her eyes, her legs losing all supportive ability underneath her, once again a falling sensation washing over her.

"Dr. Mike…?" Colleen frowned, dropping the rug, about to reach across to her, however, seeing Michaela collapse to the ground before she had a chance.

"Dr. Mike!" Matthew glared worriedly, the three of them arriving instantly around Michaela's slumped form, Colleen instructing Ingrid to go fetch the medical bag from the wagon.

"Ma!" Brian screamed, he and Sully having seen Michaela hit the ground from nearby, their pace increasing to a sprint, arriving to the group as Ingrid departed back towards the wagons.

"She all right?" Matthew demanded accusingly towards his younger sister, Colleen, managing to roll an unconscious Michaela onto her back, checking her pulse and feeling her forehead.

"Why you askin' me? Your idea to start playin' that stupid game…" Colleen shook her head, the distress clear across her face.

"Dr. Mike?" Sully watched as Brian dove to the ground beside her, grabbing Michaela's left hand, Matthew looking back towards the man defensively.

"We were just havin' a bit a fun…Matthew's guilt was obvious, Sully nodded in understanding.

"Weren't your fault, Matthew… is just the hot weather… she'll be fine…" Sully moved out of the way as Ingrid returned, Colleen opening the medical bag and locating the smelling salts.

By that stage, a dozen or so townspeople had seen the incident that had transpired, and were crowded around in curiosity.

"Thanks…" Colleen acknowledged Ingrid's quick return, opening the bottle and waving it under Michaela's nose several times.

"What happened?" Olive demanded, as she emerged from the crowd. Sully shrugged in response as Colleen continued tending to Michaela.

"No idea… was mucking around with the children, then just… went down…" Sully watched as Colleen was successful in rousing Michaela.

"This ain't the first time this has happened…" Olive raised an eyebrow worriedly, Michaela gasping slightly as she opened her eyes.

"She's just pushing herself too hard…" Sully reassured with a resolute nod, watching as Michaela sat up slowly, the crowd slowly dispersing.

"We're real sorry, Dr. Mike…" Colleen rested a hand on Michaela's shoulder, Brian reluctantly letting his hand slip from hers, his concern not faltering.

"Ya all right, Ma?" Brian looked between Sully and Michaela, his eyes large and troubled.

"Fine, Brian… just…" Michaela took several calming breaths, trying to remember the sequence of events from only minutes before. Olive threw an unconvinced expression in Sully's direction before shooing the small remnants of lingering onlookers away.

"Here…" Matthew took the initiative to straighten out the picnic rug, the children, Ingrid, Michaela and Sully settling down for a quiet lunch, no further words being spoken regarding the incident, Michaela's embarrassment not permitting it.

**X.O.X**

**Thursday, 13****th**** July, 1869**

_**Four Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Yes…?" Michaela finished placing several bottles back into the glass cabinet, turning as the door opened behind her.

"Mornin', Dr. Mike…" Olive closed the door behind her, her hands going up in front of her to indicate her visit was not due to illness or injury.

"Just had to come in and get some supplies… wanted to pop by and have a chat with you…" Olive tested the waters, sensing Michaela was in an amiable mood.

"Oh…?" Michaela closed the glass-plated door, turning around to give Olive her full attention, not having any idea where the older woman was heading.

"'Bout the other day… now, Dr. Mike… you know I ain't the type to make a big deal outa nothin'… but you sure you're all right?" Olive crossed the room, the pair leaning against the examination table in casual conversation.

"Olive… there is certainly no need whatsoever for you to be going to all this trouble just for me…" Michaela shrugged, indicating she was in perfect health.

"Just, after last Sunday… and given that it ain't the first time this has happened… wanted to make sure you… ah… knew… ah…" Olive trailed off, realizing thinking her concerns were one thing, verbalizing them was proving to be quite another.

"I… appreciate your concern…" Michaela tried to dismiss Olive's worry, however also realizing what they were both thinking.

"Not that I'd really have any idea… but faintin' like that… gonna have people start talkin'… I… guess I'm… ah… just tryin' to ah… well… you're a doctor… you'd know what I…" she shook her head, "somehow I thought this was going to be easier… I don't want to be the one to suggest it, but…" Olive brushed her hands over her face, Michaela reached for her arm, reading her mind.

"Olive, don't even say it…" Michaela looked away, Olive narrowing her eyes at Michaela's understandable ill-ease.

"Well, thought somebody needed to… I mean if the notion came to my mind… won't be long before the likes of Dorothy Jennings puts two and two together…" Olive watched Michaela shift her weight, before tossing her hair back over her shoulder, her reply professionally unemotional.

"And to my mind as well… fortunately it's not possible…" Michaela drew a sharp breath, Olive nodding, although clearly demanding more clarity.

"You mean you…" Olive tilted her hand over, Michaela busying herself in straightening the sheet over the examination table.

"Yes… last week…" Michaela reflected on the events of the previous Friday morning, frowning ever so vaguely when her mind trailed forward several days to the Sunday, when the bleeding had ceased, however knowing that stress would result in an irregular cycle.

"At least that's a load off your mind… I apologize then … I didn't want to be the one to mention it… however I… was… worried… and thought, if you needed someone… if God-forbid… something…" Olive clamped her mouth closed; realizing she'd said enough, the mere mental images enough to make her feel queasy.

"I'd just as soon prefer to put it behind me… all of it…" Michaela turned back to her friend, Olive nodding in agreement.

"That's probably for the best. Everyone else seems to have… didn't think that'd ever happen I have to tell ya…" Olive smiled, nodding as she made her way to the door.

"Neither did I… Sully wants me to talk to him… but I don't see the point somehow. If I can deal with it on my own, why keep going over old ground?" Michaela, pleased that they'd moved from one very awkward topic, relaxed into the far less intimidating one.

"That's men, ain't it? "Think we'll fall apart without them… you just tell him to back-off if he starts pressuring ya… you know what's best for ya…" Olive opened the door, Michaela smiling lightly, pleased that at least someone saw it in the same light she did.

"True. Thank-you, Olive…" She reached forwards tentatively to hug her, relieved when she felt the woman's arms wrap around her shoulders.

"Anytime, Dr. Mike… only wish I could get into town more…" Olive allowed the hug to continue for a proper duration, both pulling away simultaneously.

"Well, there's certainly nothing you're missing out on around here…" Michaela sighed, realizing nothing had been happened for the past several weeks.

"I mean… I get in every few weeks or so… but… anyway… best get back to the store, hopefully that brother a mine will have those supplies ready by now…" Olive squeezed Michaela's hands warmly, before stepping out onto the porch, making her way back to the store.

**X.O.X**

"You sure kept that one quiet, Sully…" Matthew observed, Colleen placing the freshly baked birthday cake down in the center of the table before heading to the front door to greet their guest.

"Well, ain't really my type a thing…" Sully blushed, looking awkwardly from Michaela to Brian.

"Yeah, that's what Cloud Dancin' said… said you ain't never told nobody when ya birthday really is… so then I told Ma… and we had to have a party for ya!" The young boy felt Sully ruffle his hair in thankfulness.

"Now ya see why I didn't want no-body to know… all this fuss and bother…" Sully gestured to the cake and presents on the table, Matthew closing the door and the five of them scattering around the table.

"Supper's just about ready, so, Brian, help me set the table?" Colleen returned her attention to the fried chicken sizzling on the stove, the young boy eagerly setting about taking the plates and cutlery from the shelf.

"So, did someone have something to do with all this, then?" Sully sidled across to Michaela, a cheeky smile coming to her lips.

"Might you be looking at me, Mr. Sully?" Michaela saw him gesture to the cake and presents Matthew was moving from the table.

"Always," Sully replied without taking a breath, Michaela taking several moments to comprehend his utterance, before turning to him, her eyes shifting between his, the impossible silence being broken by Colleen to announce that supper was ready.

**X.O.X**

"Cut the cake, Sully!" Brian handed him the knife on the edge of the plate, everyone watching eagerly as Sully delicately cut through the light sponge, the family erupting into applause.

"Did ya make a wish?" Brian wrapped him arms around the man's waist in a hug.

"Sure did… but it's a secret…" Sully winked down at him, Matthew shaking his hand, and Colleen moving quickly to give Sully a birthday kiss, Michaela having no choice but to follow.

"Happy Birthday," she whispered, bringing her lips to his cheek hesitantly, Sully tempted to turn his head slightly, however quickly decided that that had been a big enough step for Michaela.

"That wish's lookin' more promisin' all the time…" Sully gripped her hand, the pair pausing, Brian choosing the exact moment to burst into childlike fits of giggles.

"Brian…" Matthew rolled his eyes, whacking the small boy across the head playfully, however managing to dissipate the awkwardness that had clouded the room.

"Here…" Colleen began cutting the cake, enlisting her younger brother's help to hand out the plates.

"Birthdays ain't as bad as ya thought, are they?" Matthew raised an eyebrow knowingly in Sully's direction, Michaela distracted by Brian handing her the richly filled piece of cake.

"Sully, ya ain't opened ya presents yet…" Brian immediately realized, his attention being pulled from helping Colleen to the several presents piled on the edge of Michaela's bed.

"This one's from me…" Brian handed his friend the smallest present, Sully unwrapping it to reveal the small brush.

"What's this for…" Sully smiled awkwardly, suddenly concerned that the boy was hinting at something.

"It's for Wolf… so you can brush him…" Brian smiled, Sully chuckled in realization.

"Ah... thanks…" Sully nodded, Brian thrusting the next present into his hands.

"Yeah… last time caught this one tryin' to use my brush…" Colleen glared momentarily at her younger brother.

"From Colleen and I…" Matthew explained, Sully opening the paper wrapping to reveal the dark red bandana.

"Thanks… needed a new one…" Sully nodded, wrapping the bandana around his head, Michaela handing him the final present.

"And this one is from me…" She sat back down, Brian crawling instantly onto her lap, as Sully smiled, slowly pulling the ribbon from his final gift.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

**X.O.X**

**Thursday, 3****rd**** August, 1869**

_**Three Weeks Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Ahhh!" Horace pulled away quickly from Michaela's touch, the blood beginning to trickle once again from the cut above his left eye.

"How exactly did this happen?" Michaela crossed the room opening her instrument case and reflecting on the morning's events momentarily. Having dropped the children off at school, she had just arrived at the Clinic when Horace, blood running from a nasty cut above his right eye, staggered into the examination room.

"Was… Myra… see… she didn't mean nothin', just been havin' real wild dreams lately… she don't realize she's doin' it, usually just kicks me or somethin', last night… she… ah… well was really this morning… clobbered me…" Michaela raised an eyebrow, struggling not to smile.

"Did she know she hurt you?" Michaela placed the suturing set on the desk behind her, helping Horace into a lying position.

"Oh, well… no… didn't want to upset her… told her I fell outa bed…" Horace reluctantly let his eyes drop closed, Michaela turning to reach for the needle behind her.

"This… ain't gonna hurt… is it Dr. Mike?" Horace opened his right eye nervously, seeing the needle approaching him.

"It might a little… shouldn't be too painful though…" Michaela frowned, surprised at Horace's slightly, over-dramatic aversion.

"Aw… I… you sure you need to do all that?" He moved his head slightly, recoiling from her hand on his forehead.

"It's a nasty cut, Horace… I need to suture it, to stop the bleeding…" Michaela pulled her hand away, waiting for the man to calm down.

"Well… oh…all right… you're the doctor, I guess…" Horace squeezed his eyes closed, his fingers tensing against the sides of the examination table.

"Relax, Horace…" Michaela shook her head, watching him slowly begin to decrease the tension in his hands and face.

"So how long has Myra been… ah… acting strangely?" Michaela tried once again to picture someone as petite as Myra physically injuring someone like Horace.

"About a week or so now… almost every night… she'll start talkin' in her sleep, then I'll either wake up… or she'll lash out at me… first time it happened I woke her up, I was so startled… she was real upset… said she was sorry… after that… felt bad telling her 'bout it…" Horace winced as Michaela slipped the needle through the thin flesh of his forehead.

"And is she actually having nightmares? Or just…?" Michaela gestured to his injury, as she pulled the needle through the skin, making the first stitch. Horace took a moment to catch his breath before replying.

"Says she's just dreaming, normal like… but she's been actin' different for weeks now… 'sides this…" Horace waited for Dr. Mike to finish the second suture before continuing.

"Feelin' tired all day… and eating more… and… I dunno… just kinda grumpy…" Horace looked sideways awkwardly, not meaning to sound disrespectful.

"Well, I'd certainly like to see her about this violent behavior… we can't have this continuing, you could end up seriously hurt…" Michaela finished the final suture, carefully securing a dressing over Horace's forehead.

"I'll tell her, Dr. Mike… she's gonna say it's nothin' though… gonna think I'm just overreactin'…" Horace sat up slowly, Michaela checking his pulse and pupils routinely.

"You just tell her, I instructed you to let her know she's to come and see me. Monday morning, all right? And I'll take those stitches out in a week…" Michaela ordered, in her most clinical sounding voice.

"Will do, Dr. Mike… and thanks for this… Might have to start sleepin' out in the office if it continues…" Horace handed her the money for the treatment, slipping off of the examination table slowly.

"Might be safer…" Michaela smiled, Horace leaving the Clinic, still somewhat dazed.

**X.O.X**

**Saturday, 5****th**** August, 1869**

_**Two Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Brian's beside himself, because apparently he and Colleen have to kiss…" Michaela rolled her eyes, Snowbird smiling in understanding.

"Well, then maybe the practice will do him well…" Snowbird commented, referring to the children's absence, as they were spending the day in rehearsals at the schoolhouse.

"I hope so…" Michaela glanced at their surroundings, Snowbird's voice quickly gaining her attention.

"Dr. Mike… will you come out to see us, at the reservation?" Snowbird queried, aware of what she was asking Michaela to withstand, however, not about to shy away from a direct question.

Michaela's face fell awkwardly, images from the reservation flooding through her mind. Despite knowing that it was irrational to connect the reservation with her abduction, Michaela was unable to deny the uneasiness that swept over her. Picturing the reservation she saw tepees, heard war cries and gunshots. No. It was too soon.

"I… I will try…" Michaela felt her eyes blink slowly, Snowbird able to see the torment behind them.

"When you are ready, Dr. Mike," Snowbird nodded thoughtfully, realizing it had been too much to ask.

"Snowbird, I wish I…" Michaela turned as Cloud Dancing called to her, having found some dried willow bark.

"Oh, thank-you… with this weather, I was beginning to think we weren't going to find any…" Michaela took the bark gratefully, slipping it into the small pouch she was carrying.

"Was there anything else you needed?" He smiled, Sully remaining several yards behind, silently observing as Michaela and Cloud Dancing conversed, both perfectly calm and open.

"No… that's everything…" Michaela turned back to Snowbird, wishing their afternoon did not have to end.

"When we will see you again?" She took Michaela's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Sully?" Michaela frowned slightly, suddenly not very certain.

"Up to you, Dr. Mike…" He trailed off, knowing she was specifically after a definite response from him.

"I… don't know…" Michaela strung the words together slowly, looking back towards Sully.

"It does not matter… it was good to see you both today…" Cloud Dancing stated simply, content in the knowledge that the four of them had at least had this moment.

"And you are looking well…" Snowbird embraced Michaela for several moments, neither breaking away.

"I will see you soon, I promise…" Michaela felt her eyes close; how could she love a person this much, and yet still be this scared.

Cloud Dancing and Sully watched as the two women maintained their tight hug.

"It is good there is no hatred." The Medicine Man observed, Sully nodding, an undisguised smile broadening on his face.

"Michaela does not have it in her to truly hate… She sees the good in people too easily," Sully replied, Cloud Dancing frowning slightly in reflection.

"Sully… I do not know if it is my place…" Cloud Dancing stopped abruptly.

"She still hasn't spoken to me… not about what happened…" Sully read his mind immediately. Cloud Dancing took a step closer, reaching for Sully's arm.

"Everything will happen, in it's own time, my brother… but you will need to be there…" He looked away, aware of Sully studying his eyes.

"Cloud Dancing, you know something… don't you? What?" Sully released the grip on his brother's forearm, Cloud Dancing still not meeting his eyes.

"As I said… you will need to be there. To finish what has been started…" The Medicine Man walked away towards his wife, Michaela arriving quickly by Sully's side, the two heading back along the previously traveled path.

"Sully?" Michaela saw the distant look in his eye.

"Sorry…" He brushed Cloud Dancing's words away, checking for the Wolf's presence nearby.

"Cloud Dancing was quiet today…" Michaela observed, adjusting the bag of herbs and medicines in her arm.

"Yes… he…" Sully shook his head, nodding instead, Michaela dismissing his slightly preoccupied words.

"Sully… do you think it's right… I mean… Brian's letting this kissing ordeal with Colleen really distress him… do you think… I… should say something? I mean…" Michaela watched as Sully took the bag from her, sighing in gratitude as she clasped her hands behind her back.

"Up to you… am sure he'll get over it… but then… he's probably startin' to get to the age where… he's feelin' confused… 'bout stuff like that…" Sully cleared his throat, securing the pouch to his belt as they continued their walk through the woods.

"Like what?" Michaela jumped in immediately, her eyes flashing slightly in complete misunderstanding.

"Well, like… kissin'… and… girls… and…" Sully looked away, a similar discomfort and confusion washing over him.

"Surely not... he's only…" Michaela chanced a look in Sully's direction, the pair meeting eyes nervously, Sully breaking the contact.

"He's ten… when I was that age…" Sully swallowed quickly, not about to continue with this train of thought.

"When you were that age, what?" Michaela felt a small grin creep to her lips.

"Nothin'…" Sully averted his eyes nervously to the ground once again.

"Sully!" Michaela gave up, shaking her head in slightly amused exasperation.

"What? I ain't talkin' to ya about stuff like that… it's... emabarrasin'…" Sully blushed slightly, Michaela catching on eagerly to his discomfort.

"I'm a doctor!" She rolled her eyes, knowing there was absolutely nothing he could say on the matter that would shock her.

"Wouldn't be talkin' to no doctor 'bout it, neither!" Sully watched Michaela hang her head, knowing she was pretending to pout so he'd tell her.

"All right… well… just when I was Brian's age… we… ah… that is, friend a mine… well…we… got curious…" Sully turned the corner of the left side of his mouth up ever so slightly, Michaela raising a single eyebrow.

"Curious?" Michaela shrugged, mostly just enjoying watching him grow more and more uncomfortable.

"'Bout… well… girls… 'bout what they looked like and all…" Sully gestured with a very faint hand movement, Michaela catching on immediately.

"But Brian isn't," she opposed, Sully shrugging, guiding Michaela around a suspicious looking clump of leaves.

"No… but just saying… he's… ah… well… he's startin' to think about… well… differences… startin' to realize there's different kinds a love, different kinds a kissin'…" Sully explained slowly, Michaela nodding in understanding.

"Well, do I talk to him about it? Do I speak to the Reverend?" Sully shook his head immediately in response.

"I wouldn't. He'll come to you if he can't sort it on his own… I'll see if I can have a word to him… might be easier comin' from me…" Sully knew Brian had had a somewhat rushed education these last few months, suspecting that Michaela possibly wasn't ready to confront some of these realities.

"Sully… if I have to have that talk with him, I will…" Michaela retorted defensively, sensing Sully's coyness around the subject, and wishing to assert herself firmly as Brian's primary caregiver.

"Michaela… he's already had… that talk… he… ah… think Dorothy took care of it…" Sully noticed the look of controlled mortification crossing Michaela's face.

"I see…" She drew a breath, Sully immediately attempted to cushion the blow as much as he could.

"Well, someone had to talk to him, Michaela… Matthew told me 'bout it… said Brian used a few words Matthew didn't know he knew… and… well… I'm sure she was just doin' what she thought was right at the time." Sully waited, allowing Michaela time to rationalize that what had been done was for the best.

"I guess you're right…" Michaela muttered under her breath, the pair continuing to walk in silence for several minutes.

"Michaela… you… you would tell me if something was… troublin' ya, wouldn't ya?" Sully chose his words awkwardly, his mind drifting over Michaela's past behavior, combined with Cloud Dancing's vague words from their first reunion, as well as today.

"Of course, I would… why would you question that?" Michaela followed Sully towards a hollow log, laying several yards from the path.

"Just… and I don't want to pressure you… but… been worried…" He spoke as they sat down, Wolf amusing himself chasing a rabbit further down the path.

"Sully… everything's all right… I just wish everyone would stop being so concerned about me. If it's not you, it's Olive, or Dorothy… even Colleen keeps looking at me sideways…" Michaela pushed a strand of loose hair from her face, Sully remaining unconvinced.

"Well, maybe they're worried for a reason… I mean… you gotta admit… you have been actin' kinda strangely, well… not recently… but what about that day we took the kids fishin'…" Sully reminded her, Michaela cringing, remembering just how obtuse she'd been.

"I… I suppose I do owe you an explanation… I…" Michaela soon found that earlier embarrassment thrown right back on her shoulders.

"Michaela… whatever is it…" Sully saw his right hand move in front of him, indicating for her to feel free to talk with him.

"I…" Michaela felt her lips move slightly, however no sound could be heard. She didn't even want to say it, to vocalize it. The mere contemplation was enough to put a lump in her throat.

Sully leant his forearms on his thighs, watching Michaela with intrigue as she struggled to make any sound. He refused to give up, knowing that the longer he gazed expectantly at her, the sooner she would just respond.

"I…" Michaela felt the professional detachment enter her voice, her tone dropped and her words lost all emotion. "I had to consider the possibility that there could have been complications…" There. She'd said it. Sort of. She'd answered his question in any case.

"Complications?" Sully moved his eyes from side to side, his eyebrows dropping, sensing a medical metaphor at work.

"Well, in a situation like this… one needs to consider…" Michaela felt her jaw drop in response to the volume and frustration in Sully's outburst.

"Michaela, will you quit talkin' like a doctor for five minutes… and just tell me!" He was starting to get increasingly concerned, not following her and sensing it was something that had the potential to cause her significant distress.

"I didn't know if…" She brought a hand to her face, more in shock than in an attempt to hide the tears that had built up in her eyes.

"Michaela…?" Sully leant closer towards her, surprised when she didn't attempt to hide the tears, nor stop them begin slowly trickling down her face.

"I'm sorry…I just…" Michaela felt the relief wash over her, aware of Sully's right hand slipping slowly around her shoulders, her head nuzzling naturally against his chest, his other arm wrapping around, his fingers interlocking as he let her continue sobbing, still having no idea what she was crying about, however pleased that she was finally displaying some justifiable emotion.

"Sorry… didn't mean to make ya upset… just wanted… to see if everything was all right…" Sully felt her head resting against his chest, looking downwards at her long hair falling against her back, before shifting his gaze to his hands wrapped securely around her, being reminded of the last time he'd held her tiny frame within his arms.

"Sully… I… don't know what's happening…" Michaela felt his arms move around her, his hands caressing her back protectively. Tears still building and falling silently from her eyes, Michaela nestled her head against his chest, her breathing beginning to relax, hearing him inhale and exhale slowly.

"Sshh… it's all right… I ain't goin' nowhere, Michaela…" He moved hesitantly along the log, careful to be aware of any discomfort being displayed by her. However, Sully soon felt his hip brush hers, his right hand moving to stroke her hair, neither looking to break the contact.

"Are you sure?" She moved her head slightly, looking up just as he moved his gaze downwards to meet her eyes.

"I meant what I said, Michaela… ain't nothin' changed…" He felt her right hand move to his ribcage, her fingers tentatively grasping his back, Michaela also remembering the last time they'd been this close.

"But I… it's not the same…" Michaela reminded him, feeling Sully inhale sharply against her, looking up worriedly.

"Michaela… I know what you're thinkin'… and maybe in Boston… it would make a difference… all I know is… I love you… and it don't matter…" Sully pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes remaining locked with hers, physical reactions unnecessary, each knew what the other was saying.

"I… thought you were dead… I… the children… If you were dead who was going to take care of them…" Michaela could barely hear her own voice escape her lips, amazed when Sully responded.

"You did the right thing, Michaela… don't you ever think different…" Sully moved his arm slowly down her back, feeling her tense slightly underneath his grasp.

"I should have fought," she whispered, her eyes remaining open, unblinking and free flowing tears running into her mouth.

"Michaela, if you'd a fought, he woulda just killed ya… you know that… I know it's easy… once you're back here… safe… with your family, to forget… to forget how real that fear was." Sully looked at the strands of her hair woven between his fingers, his mind reaffirming that he truly did know just what she had endured.

"I'll never be able to stop… seeing the knife at my throat, or feeling his hand wrapped around my wrists…" Michaela felt her head lower once again, drawing her arms protectively back around her waist.

"I know… and no-one's expectin' ya to… I'm sorry, Michaela… I'm sorry I let you down…" Sully leant forwards slowly, to rest his chin on the top of her head, aware of her moving slightly underneath him.

"You nearly died out there… how can you say that?" Michaela remembered the seriousness of his head wound. Sully let her pull away slightly from his grasp, always careful never to restrict her movements.

"I could say the same to you… Point is, we're both here, now… that's what counts…" Sully shifted his gaze awkwardly, Michaela's eyes never leaving his as she felt her head raise from against his chest, her breath caught in her throat, when the distance between their mouths narrowed, neither one believing the other wasn't going to pull away.

This determination was fueled by the belief that if either were to shy from the inevitable now, the other would perceive it as rejection. Unspoken realization saw their lips brush momentarily, eyes closing as each moved slightly, allowing their mouths to find each other once again, the sustained kiss not aggressive, nor demanding; however, tender and understanding.

Michaela felt her hand move to his chest, aware of his arm encircling her back slowly, his fingertips pressing ever so lightly into her shoulder. Unable to discern exactly what she was feeling at that moment, Michaela felt her lungs crying out for air, and found herself pulling back slightly, their lips breaking contact as she took a gasped breath.

"Michaela… I'm sorry… I didn't mean…" Sully's eyes widened in horror, as he saw the heaving of her shoulders, aware of the effort with which she drew her breath.

"No… I… just… couldn't breathe…" She reassured, each waiting several moments before refocusing their attention back on the other, Michaela's breathing having returned to a normal pace.

"Now? Or…" Sully queried, Michaela narrowed her eyes, not comprehending his words straight away.

She felt her shoulders tense, Sully's arm pulling her tenderly towards him, memories combining together into a sea of emotional torment. Clasping her hands tighter around his back, she rested her head on his shoulder, tears running from her eyes as she gazed out over the trees and scrub in the distance.

"Both…" Michaela realized that the sensation of Sully's lips upon hers, had been enough to trigger the physical recollection.

Feeling her fingernails dig tightly into his back, her chin tucking deeper into his shoulder, the pair remained clutched to each other, Sully watching his left hand move delicately over the strands of hair trailing down her back once again.

"I'll always be here, Michaela… I love you…" Sully whispered, adjusting his hand against her back softly, feeling her gradually relax under his touch.

"I love you…" Came the almost inaudible reply. Sully moved his left hand upwards to cradle her head, neither caring how long they remained in their healing embrace.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

**X.O.X**

**Sunday, 6****th**** August, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela had long since realized she was not actually reading the book held loosely in her hands, however was consumed with recollections from the day before. The fire still burning brightly beside her, she continued rocking slowly backwards and forwards in the chair, a blanket wrapped snuggly around her.

Closing the book, she set it down on the small table beside her, about to prepare for bed, when she saw the thin white curtain across the room move slightly, Brian's head appearing after only a moment.

"Ma?" He whispered quietly, Michaela reached her arm out to beckon him to her, the small boy pulling himself onto her lap as she wrapped the blanket around him.

"Another bad dream, Brian?" Michaela leant back in the chair, allowing the boy to rest against her shoulder.

"No… just couldn't sleep," he replied, reaching for the book beside her.

"Is the play still bothering you? You know, if you'd like me to talk to the Reverend, I will…" Michaela suggested, watching as Brian flicked curiously through the heavy textbook, stopping occasionally in fascination at several pictures.

"Nah… it's all right… talked to Matthew about it… said that since she's my sister it ain't bad… and it's only pretend…" Brian reassured his mother, as he stopped turning pages when he arrived at a collection of pictures.

"Ma… can you tell me a story?" Brian watched the fire continue to flicker back and forth in front of them, Michaela glancing down at him strangely.

"You really would like a story? I thought you might be a little old for that…" She smiled softly, giving Brian the opportunity to change his mind.

"Well… I… think it'll help me sleep…" Brian side-stepped the issue of age delicately, Michaela nodded, understanding quickly that even if he felt too old for a story, Brian wasn't about to admit it.

"Ah… I'll need to think for a moment, Brian… what kind of story would you like?" Michaela tightened her arms around his chest, the boy nestling comfortably against her shoulder.

"Can you tell me about Grandpa? Coz I never got to meet him…" Brian rested his hands in his lap, Michaela looking down at him oddly.

"Of course… Let's see..." Michaela tilted her head upwards slightly, her mind momentarily reliving fragments of the time she'd spent in he father's company.

"Was he mean?" Brian cut in, the small boy deciding to make this into more of a conversation than a story.

"No… he was very firm, Brian… he… was a man of principles, believing that one should never sacrifice what they believe in, simply to gain approval, or friendship. He… believed all people are created equal, that you should never judge a person's worth or moral fiber by their appearance… he believed vehemently that a person's true potential should never be jeopardized by factors beyond their control." Michaela paused abruptly when the young child interjected.

"What's vemenly mean?" Brian studied the top button on Michaela's dressing gown, seemingly content in their conversation.

"_Vehemently_, means… when you feel strongly about something… like how Sully feels about protecting nature…" Michaela found her mind drifting back to the previous day, feeling his arms wrapped securely around her shoulders.

"Or how I feel about candy…" Brian raised an eyebrow, both parties aware that he was only teasing.

"I suppose so…" Michaela shook her head, Brian's childlike innocence and natural intelligence never failing to astound her.

"And Grandpa's the reason you got to be a doctor, right?" Brian placed the heavy medical book back onto the table beside them, Michaela nodding noncommittally.

"In a way… He certainly founded my interest in medicine, in healing pain… in saving lives… and he encouraged me never to give up on my dreams, when friends and, even family, laughed at my ambition." Michaela watched Brian smile softly, the awe evident in his eyes.

"And you never gave up… you proved to them, they were all wrong… that women can do anythin' men can do… like what Grandpa believed…" Brian yawned reluctantly, thoroughly enthralled in the conversation, and therefore not wishing to seem tired.

Michaela nodded slowly, realizing Brian was limiting the relevance of his comment to being a doctor. She frowned slightly, aware that now might prove an ideal time to launch into a slightly awkward topic.

"Brian… you… know that if you're confused or have any questions about… differences… you can talk to me?" Michaela was determined not to allow her own discomfort to jeopardize her son's education.

"Ma?" He tilted his head, feeling thoroughly confused, right at that very moment.

"Well… differences, between… men… and women… if there's anything you'd like to know… or that you don't understand…" Michaela watched the boy's face drop into a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness.

"Ma… why can't men have babies?" Brian scrunched up his mouth, his hands squirming awkwardly in front of him.

Michaela drew a breath, relieved as the question had not been as challenging as she'd feared.

"Well… ah…" she paused, moving her right hand to the textbook beside them, flicking through the book until she arrived at the picture she was after.

"Here… see, the female… has different parts on the inside… and one of those is something called a uterus… it.. it's like a sack where the baby develops until it's ready to be born…" Michaela pointed between the differing pictures, Brian comparing the two anatomical drawings.

"And I don't got one?" Brian frowned, sounding somewhat disappointed.

"No, I'm afraid not, Brian…" Michaela tilted her head slightly towards the child, much strength being required to resist the temptation to smile at the patent disenchantment in Brian's voice.

"Aw… so… the Pa puts the baby into the... that thing… and then it grows until it gets big enough… and then it comes out…" He pointed back to the picture, trying to assimilate the new information with his albeit limited previous knowledge on the subject.

"That's correct…" Michaela closed the book, looking towards Brian, bracing herself for another question.

"And… I gotta be the Pa when I grow up, don't I… which is why men can't have babies…" Brian nodded, everything beginning to fall into place.

"Exactly…" Michaela glanced across at the dying fire, not really aware of Brian's voice recommencing until he spoke a familiar word.

"So, is Sully still gonna end up bein' our Pa, then… Coz he was before, weren't he?" The young boy carefully fastened the top button of Michaela's dressing gown, unaware of just how awkward his question had been.

"I… I don't know, sweetheart… Would you still like him to be?" Michaela found herself reflecting on Sully's words from the day before.

"Sure… gotta have a Pa… otherwise, I ain't never gonna get that baby brother…" Brian missed the slightly apprehensive expression appearing across Michaela's face.

"Indeed…" She trailed off, wondering if resuming her relationship with Sully really might be as simple and logical as Brian made out.

"Ma… maybe you and Sully can come see the play together… less than a month away now… Think he'd wanna go?" Brian took the heavy textbook back once again, Michaela hoping he was starting to grow weary.

"I'm sure Sully would love to see the play, Brian…" Michaela smoothed the fine hair across the top of the boy's head. "Are you feeling sleepy, yet…?"

"You'll be there too, won't ya, Ma?" He queried, his small voice wavering slightly in uncertainty.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Brian…" Michaela smiled, drawing his head back to her left shoulder, Brian crossing his ankles and dropping his eyes closed, quite content in the imminence of his lullaby.

"Sleep, my child… and peace attend thee… All through the night…" Michaela felt her chest drop, as Brian snuggled sleepily against her.

"Guardian angels… God will send thee… All through the night…" She shifted her gaze from the child's dozing head, watching the flame in the fireplace flicker slowly back and forth, as it dwindled.

"Soft the drowsy hours… are creeping… Hill and dale in slumber sleeping…" Her hands returned to stroke the top of his head gently.

"I, my loving vigil keeping… All through the night…" Michaela felt the boy's upper body adjust wearily against her, sleep gradually calling to him. Her arms interlocking around his chest, she lowered her voice slightly, continuing the well-memorized lullaby her father had taught her when she was Brian's age.

_While the moon her watch is keeping_

_All through the night_

_While the weary world is sleeping_

_All through the night_

_O'er thy spirit gently stealing_

_Visions of delight revealing_

_Breathes a pure and holy feeling_

_All through the night_

_Love, to thee my thoughts are turning_

_All through the night_

_All for thee my heart is yearning,_

_All through the night._

_Though sad fate our lives may sever_

_Parting will not last forever,_

_There's a hope that leaves me never,_

_All through the night._

Michaela continued through the lullaby, her voice fading soothingly with each line, as she felt Brian gradually go limp in her arms. With her hands still supporting his weight, Michaela guided the child to his feet, the dazed boy stirring only enough to be led back to bed.

Helping him slip between the sheets, Michaela pulled the quilt up over his now motionless form, kissing him affectionately on the forehead.

Ensuring Colleen had not been disturbed, Michaela paced back along the rough floorboards, arriving by the side of her bed.

Pulling off her dressing gown, laying it neatly along the end of the bed, Michaela brushed her hands tiredly across her eyelids, savoring momentarily, the invitingness of the soft pillows, and the freshness of the cool sheets.

She glanced across at the clock on the mantelpiece; eleven-fifteen. Settling Brian had taken over an hour. Michaela slid onto the mattress in a clean, fluid motion, dragging the quilt up over her as she collected her hair awkwardly into a gathered bunch over her shoulder.

Tossing and turning, in an attempt to get comfortable for what was left of the night's sleep, Michaela rolled uncomfortably onto her side, trying to relieve the dull ache stemming from her lower back.

Hurling the quilt in frustration to the end of the bed, Michaela sighed, letting herself sink once again onto her back, hands falling lightly across her stomach, as she forced her eyes closed, desperately begging sleep to her consciousness.

Beginning to plan through what she knew needed to be accomplished over the following day, Michaela wasn't aware of her fingertips pressing lightly against her lower abdomen. She felt her breathing slow gradually, hoping that maybe, possibly, sleep might not be too far off.

Adjusting her hands slightly, Michaela was far away in her head, recalling to the best of her ability, the patients she would be seeing the next day, oblivious to her fingers creeping slowly across her stomach.

Physical movements divorced from mental comprehension, Michaela failed to appreciate the looming significance of the light palpatory actions of her fingers against the thin fabric of her nightdress, until her fingertips froze over the swollen, yet firm area barely an inch above her pelvis.

The reality that had been slowly building inside of her, in a single moment, ceased every competing thought in her mind; leaving her with only one, unspeakable, torturous conclusion.

Michaela scurried spontaneously upwards into a sitting position, and felt her breathing accelerate into a silent pant. Her thoughts were jumbled, her mind whirling in multiple directions, her consciousness being bombarded with visual images, both past and future.

_No… Oh God, no… please… this can't be happening… how could I let this happen… why didn't I stop it… why did I let it go this far… I should have known… I should have… prevented this…_

Michaela dropped back down to the mattress, rolling onto her side and pulling the quilt protectively over her shoulders. Her eyes dropped closed before opening moments later, this subtle movement repeating, as she tried to rationalize what had been an indescribable millisecond of realization.

Carefully, nervously, Michaela reached her right hand back under the quilt, pulling her nightdress up, drawing a breath as she began what would normally have been a simple, emotionally detached abdominal exam. To her impeccable medical training, her enlarged uterus was unmistakable. Combating the nausea welling up from her stomach, Michaela forced herself to continue for several moments, foolishly realizing she was trying to determine gestation.

Slipping her hand quickly back over the quilt, Michaela heard the drawn-out sigh escape her lips. Her mind torn between physician and mother, dates and arithmetic calculations proved a welcome distraction against pondering reactions and emotions.

_Twelve… thirteen… the children… Sully… No… why didn't I figure this out weeks ago? There might have actually been something I could have done about it… what am I thinking… I can't… but I can't go through with this… What will people say… think… the children… This isn't fair on them… this isn't fair on Sully…_

Michaela took a strangled gasp of air, tears running desperately down her cheeks, her arms pulled against her chest, her fists clenching tightly.

_Olive was right… she knew… how did she know?_

Michaela let her mind travel back over her behavior over the last few months, realizing that deep down, she too, knew exactly what her symptoms were indicating. She'd willingly mistaken the spotting weeks ago for her monthly, the physician in her chastising herself at once.

_How could I be so naïve? Had it been anyone else, and it's the first thing I would have been concerned with…_

Her mind began flashing forwards, weeks, months, skimming past her consciousness, realizing just what she was going to be enduring.

_I can't have this baby… I can't… but what choice do I have? I can't do this… I can't… I wish I'd just…_

Michaela stopped herself quickly, her final lingering thought bringing Brian's cheerful face to mind. How could she have wished herself dead. Her thoughts continued to swim, this time backwards, memories flooding past her of the months, years and decades that had gone by.

_I can never go home… I can never expect them to understand… I truly have disgraced them… I've dishonored everything I was raised to be… Everything Father had told me I could be… Mother was right, I should never have come here, this never would have happened… the children… Father… I'm sorry…_

Michaela found herself once again conflicted; this time between selfish torment, and commitment to Matthew, Colleen and Brian. She let her mind drift over how her life might have turned out had she remained in Boston.

_I should have stayed. I should have accepted William's proposal… and stayed. Why do I always think I know best… Mother was right. Now look at what's happened… The children would have adjusted…_

Michaela brought her hands to her moist eyes, not having realized just how hot and clammy her face had become due to her silent tears.

_Sully… he said it didn't matter… he said he… oh… how could this all be going so wrong… just when everything was beginning to calm down… just as I could see some hope… why? why…?_

She knew at that point, any potential for sleep had been lost for the night. Her mind danced between memories and faces, she knew Brian wouldn't understand, her conversation only a short time ago repeating itself over and over. Michaela knew Colleen and Matthew would be supportive… but she also knew just how they'd be ridiculed, ostracized… as she would be.

_I can't face them… I can't tell them. The town… the scandal… I couldn't bear that. This is too much… too much to expect anyone to accept… No… this… will not happen…_

_Father… I'm sorry I let you down… I know what you would think of me… you would have never allowed this to happen… you could have stopped this… I let you down… I let everyone down…_

Michaela felt her hair fall over her face, beyond caring. Her terrified sobs continued long into the night, momentarily forgetting why she crying, until she remembered and fresh tears formed again in her eyes. She was no longer tired, anxiety-driven panic had immediately ensured that, her mind drifted between memories and predictions, voices and faces haunting her consciousness.

Gingerly moving a hand to her stomach once again, Michaela allowed her fingers to brush over her lower abdomen, each time praying silently in vain that perhaps she might awaken and discover this had all been a nightmare.

Michaela knew it was not so. She could feel the warmth radiating under her hand, like a ticking time-bomb threatening to destroy what was left of her life.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

**X.O.X**

**Monday, 7****th**** August, 1869**

_**One Day Later – 15 Weeks Gestation**_

**X.O.X**

"Mornin' Ma…" Brian appeared groggily from behind the white curtain, wiping the sleep from his eyes, and stumbling out into the living area, still in his pale pajamas.

"Breakfast's almost ready…" Michaela turned briefly to acknowledge the young boy, before returning her attention to the bacon frying noisily on the stove in front of her.

"Smells great, Ma…" Brian approached her, Michaela failing to detect the small child's movements until she felt his arms wrap around her waist in a tight, affectionate hug.

"Careful, Brian… you'll get… burnt…" Michaela pushed his shoulder away spontaneously, averting more to the intimate contact than to any danger posed to Brian's health.

Michaela turned back quickly to the breakfast cooking on the stove, deliberately ignoring the hangdog expression, she knew would be plastered all over the boy's face.

"I'll go get dressed then…" Brian shrugged, not thinking too much of it, and retreating back to his room to prepare for the day.

**X.O.X**

"Seeya at the Clinic, Ma… Ma?" Brian jumped from the wagon, watching as Michaela turned back towards the horse, taking a moment to respond.

"Oh… yes, sweetheart," she replied, however her tone was flat and distracted.

"Yeah… complete run through… ain't it… darling…" Brian giggled, turning towards Colleen smooching his lips together playfully.

"Come on, you… school…" Colleen rolled her eyes, aware of Michaela's obvious inattention.

Brian turned and headed towards the schoolhouse, his pace quickening when he noticed Steven trudging along the path towards him.

"Dr. Mike… you get any sleep last night? Dr. Mike?" Colleen frowned slightly, noticing just how tired Michaela seemed.

"Huh? Oh… sorry… Not really… no… See you after school, Colleen…" Michaela forced a smile, moving Bear off towards the main street, Colleen remaining still, her eyes fixed in mild concern for several moments, until she heard Becky calling from a distance.

**X.O.X**

"Horace, Myra… please…" Michaela noticed the couple sitting patiently on the bench outside the Clinic as she approached, opening the door and gesturing warmly for them to enter.

"Really… don't know why Horace made me come, Dr. Mike… ain't nothin' the matter…" Myra shook her head, in mock anger at her husband, as they nonetheless took seats in the examination room, Michaela glancing around quickly to orientate herself, forcing her mind to stop drifting onto other concerns.

"Myra, I actually requested that Horace encourage you to come and see me, he… ah… mentioned… a little… accident?" Michaela looked briefly between the white dressing above Horace's eye, before turning back to Myra, the Doctor's face remaining calm and non-judgmental.

"Oh, that… aw, Dr. Mike… I just feel so awful 'bout it… Don't even remember it or nothin'… one minute I'm asleep, next minute wake up… and Horace's on the floor, blood gushing everywhere…" Myra explained rapidly, her voice increasing in pitch and distress with each word.

"Calm down, Myra… we both know you didn't mean it… However… Horace did mention that you've not seemed yourself lately? I was hoping you might be able to enlighten me a little?" Michaela reached across the desk locating some blank paper and a pencil, preparing to take notes.

"Well… ain't really thought much about it… 'least not 'til now… suppose I been feelin' tired lately… but that's just coz I been changin' my ways… sleepin' at night… not like when I was workin' at Hank's…" Myra shrugged lightly, turning to Horace, still believing he was overreacting.

"Now Myra, honey… you been... well… actin' different in other ways too… you been kinda… well… moody…not, not that I mind…" Horace quickly backtracked, his desperate reassurance in response to the denying glare that swept across Myra's face.

"I ain't been moody, Horace… where'd you get somethin' like that from… just been… I dunno… bit… sensitive, is all… don't want you fussin' 'round me all the time…" Myra defended strongly, Michaela glancing between the textbook on her desk and the paper she was writing on.

"And I… believe Horace… you mentioned an increased appetite?" Michaela looked between each individual in front of her, watching Myra's face break into a slightly humiliated look of pure offence.

"Horace… if ya reckon I've been eatin' too much… just needed to say somethin' to me… didn't need to go blabbing to Dr. Mike… I can't believe you'd do such a thing…!" Myra's face darkened, Michaela and Horace exchanging slightly shocked glances at her sudden outburst of temper.

"Myra, aw, don't go gettin' all moody again... I didn't mean it like it was botherin' me… I was just worried 'bout ya… Dr. Mike… you sure nothing's wrong with her?" Horace slid his chair several inches away from his wife.

"Ah… Horace… maybe you'd… best give us a few minutes… might be ah… in everyone's best interest." Michaela's eyes darted quickly towards the door, Horace exiting in a matter of seconds, Michaela getting to her feet and pacing around to lean against the edge of the table, Myra looking up at her quietly for several minutes before bursting into tears.

"Myra? What in the world…?" Michaela narrowed her eyebrows, her confusion evident across her exhausted face.

"Oh, Dr. Mike… I didn't like to say nothin' in front a Horace, ain't somethin' I wanna talk about in front of him…" Myra slipped a handkerchief from her sleeve, blowing her nose and taking several calming breaths.

"What didn't you want to talk about? Do you think you know what's causing these peculiar behaviors?" Michaela crossed her arms in front of her, looking down before awkwardly pulling them away, resting her palms against the top of the desk.

"I… I'm… pregnant…" Myra blurted out, letting her face fall into an excited giggle, Michaela's jaw dropping momentarily, connecting with only one word and taking several moments to process the polarized emotional reaction.

"Oh… ah… what leads you to that conclusion?" Michaela blinked several times, stepping away from the desk, indicating for Myra to stand and make her way towards the examination table.

"Well, had my suspicions for a week or so now… just didn't wanna say nothin' 'til I was sure… missed two monthlies and usually I'm as regular as clockwork… and well…" Michaela cut her off, slightly too curtly.

"All right… just lay down… and we'll see…" The physician placed an arm clinically on Myra's shoulder, the woman settling down against the padded table. Michaela glanced across the room, an eerie sense of déjà vu creeping over her.

"Why didn't you come and see me about this straight away?" Michaela enquired, her voice carrying a slightly more accusing tone than she'd intended. Drawing her hands tentatively to the woman's abdomen, Michaela tightened her jaw, professionalism setting in instantly.

"I guess… I… weren't really… sure… and didn't wanna scare Horace if it weren't true…" Myra trailed off, sensing Michaela needed her to be quiet for several moments whilst she conducted the examination.

"Scare Horace?" Michaela sighed, her fingertips palpating the women's tender flesh delicately, eyebrows narrowing as she mapped her way around Myra's internal organs.

"Yea… yeah…" Myra stumbled, her gaze shifting worriedly between Michaela and the slightly uncomfortable pressure on her stomach.

"I fail to see why it should scare him?" Michaela continued the exam in silence for several moments, Myra relaxing once she'd removed her hands.

"No... not scare… just… don't think he'd be expectin' it or nothin'… only been married a couple a months… well… ah…?" Myra swallowed slowly, Michaela crossing the room to collect the stirrups, clamping them to the edge of the examination table, Myra sitting up awaiting a response.

"I need to conduct an internal exam…" Michaela crossed the room, collecting a sheet and an assortment of instruments, Myra slowly removing her undergarments, her gaze alternating awkwardly between Michaela and the undressing process, choosing to remain in a nervous silence.

"Dr. Mike… ah… is something… wrong…?" Myra waited until Michaela returned to the end of the examination table, before voicing her concern.

"I can't be certain in a diagnosis at this stage… without conducting a thorough examination… it won't take long, Myra… then we'll know…" Michaela blinked several times, her voice remaining oddly detached and aloof, Myra having no choice but to settle back against the table, moving her legs into the stirrups and trying to settle her breathing.

**X.O.X**

"Mornin', Horace… something the matter?" Sully strode along the porch, having just come from the Mercantile, when he noticed the dark-haired man sitting patiently, yet in an obvious state of agitation on the bench outside the Clinic.

"Oh… I… ain't really sure… Myra and Dr. Mike been in there for ages now…" Horace rested his hands on his knees, his gaze alternating between Sully and the closed wooden door to his right.

"Nothin's wrong, is it?" Sully took a seat beside him, the Wolf settling onto the floorboards nearby, his tongue extending into a gentle pant, in an attempt to cool himself against the warm weather.

"Sure hope not… but ya never know…" Horace's knee began to shake softly, a hand going to steady it immediately.

"Relax, Horace… Dr. Mike'll figure it out… ain't gotta worry 'bout that…" Sully and Horace looked up, as the door creaked open and Myra burst excitedly out onto the porch.

"Myra… honey… everything all right?" Horace got to his feet, feeling her arms wrap instantly around his shoulders, almost shying away defensively from the physical gesture before realizing Myra was in a state of utter elation.

"Everything's wonderful! I… you… I mean… we… are… gonna have… a baby…!" Myra felt Horace react after several moments, returning the tight hug and picking her up to spin her around in several quick rotations before setting her back down, panic crossing his face.

"Oh… sorry… I shouldn't have… You all right?" Horace looked between Myra's stomach and face, his eyes dancing with fatherly pride.

"I'm fine… Just weren't sure you'd be quite so… thrilled…" Myra let her voice trickle into an excited giggle.

"Well... I know it's quick… but… aww I couldn't want anything more… our baby… ours…!" Horace and Myra closed the gap between their bodies once again in an overjoyed embrace.

Sully managed to momentarily glimpse Michaela's eyes, expecting to find them lit with friendly support and interest. They were anything but. Her gaze was slightly downcast, as if lost in her own thoughts. Her face was pale, and she looked as if she were about to burst into tears if anything. Not having time to ponder the moment any longer, Sully heard Myra's voice once again, still conscious of the positive energy being emitted from the new parents.

"Oh, Dr. Mike… thank-you…" Myra took several steps across the porch, embracing an extremely unsuspecting Michaela in a warm hug, Sully's eyes narrowed as he noticed the sheer terrorized discomfort momentarily flash across Michaela's face, however, ever-the-professional, she hid it instantly.

"That's quite all right, Myra… everything seems to be fine… come and see me in a month or so…" Michaela trailed off, as Myra pulled away from her, clasping Horace's hand tightly.

"Oh, absolutely Dr. Mike… and thank-you for all your advice… I'll be sure and let you know if there are any problems…" The young woman and her still somewhat shocked husband smiled dreamily to Sully and then to each other, before steeping from the porch. Sully closed the distance subtly between Michaela and himself, his eyes still fixed on Horace and Myra.

"'Nother successful diagnosis there, Dr. Quinn… sure made their day…" Sully beamed, watching the ecstatic couple disappear back towards the telegraph office. They were arm in arm, Horace already beginning to fuss over her.

"Dr. Mike?" Sully turned back, seeing the emotionless expression on Michaela's face; her eyes dull and lifeless as they watched the pair disappear from view.

"Michaela?" Sully frowned, moving his head into her line of vision, waiting for her eventual response.

"Huh… oh, Sully. What?" She frowned lightly, as if disgruntled at being caught off-guard.

"That must be amazin'… bein' able to just break that kinda news to someone… must really make you glad you became a doctor…" His smile widened, expecting her to snap out of whatever daydream she was in and hear what he was saying.

"Hmm…" Michaela sighed, her emotional reaction to his words neutral as she turned back towards the door.

"Hey… I came by to see ya… thought ya might wanna… get some coffee…?" He stepped closer to her, a fresh, boyish smile creeping onto his face, somewhat relieved that the tension between them had abated over the past several weeks, certainly by the previous weekend!

Michaela rested her left hand on the door handle, moving closer towards the door as she lifted her head, turning back to him, aware of his eyes roaming over her.

"Well… I don't…" Michaela's reply was succinct and emotionally flat. She straightened her neck, her head rising several inches as if to give her words more conviction.

"Aw, come on… somethin' like that… must wanna celebrate… it's excitin'…" Sully coerced jovially, his right hand slipping to Michaela's forearm, gripping the soft fabric of her salmon colored blouse. It was his favorite.

"I'm... busy…" She felt the muscles in her neck tighten, her hands trying to discreetly sever the physical contact between them.

Sully tilted his head slightly, before removing his hand, his blue eyes softening, realizing that he was possibly over-stepping the bounds of their newly acquired familiarity only two days prior.

"Fine…" The rejection in his voice was obvious, and they both knew it. Taking a step away from her, Sully posed no further objection when she disappeared back into the Clinic. A frustrated kick to the nearby post, followed by Sully calling the Wolf to his feet, blocked the thump of Michaela leaning back against the inside door of the Clinic, tears streaming silently down her cheeks, arms wrapped around her chest, as Sully and the Wolf ran off into the distance, his frustration evident from the speed at which his moccasins pounded the dirt street.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

**X.O.X**

**Wednesday, 9****th**** August, 1869**

_**Two Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela stepped onto the porch outside the telegraph office, darting quickly to her left, to avoid a townswoman bustling through the door, armed with parcels and young children.

Medical bag held loosely in her right arm, her left hand clutching the letter tightly by her side, Michaela waited until the doorway was clear before briskly entering the small office. Horace sat at his desk, finishing a telegram.

"Afternoon, Dr. Mike… just a minute…" He smiled, quickly completing the telegram before pacing cheerfully across to the desk, the realization of impending fatherhood still plastered across his face.

"What can I do for you?" Horace smiled, Michaela placed her bag on the edge of the counter, gingerly handing him the neatly printed, securely sealed envelope.

"Can you see this gets to Boston, Horace… it's very important…" Michaela swallowed watching as he casually took the letter from her right hand, glancing over the addressee details.

"Dr. Horatio Robinson Storer… wow that sure is one heck of a name, ain't it…" Horace nodded, turning slightly to pull the mailbag from under the counter.

"When will it go out, Horace?" Michaela felt nervous just knowing the letter had left her possession.

"Stage is due tomorrow mornin'… Boston… so should get there within a week… something urgent, Dr. Mike?" Horace didn't like to pry, however was conscious of the concerned expression on Michaela's face.

"Urgent's an understatement, Horace…" Michaela sighed, placing the money for postage on the counter, before turning, about to make her way towards the door.

"Well… wouldn't ya be better off wiring this doctor… then you'd hear back straight…" Horace was taken aback by the sharpness in Michaela's immediate reply.

"Ah, no… that… ah… will be fine… Thank-you, Horace…" Michaela felt the blood rush to her head just at the mere notion of this becoming public gossip. She proceeded through the door, barely acknowledging Horace's reply.

"No problem, Dr. Mike… good day…" He shrugged, she sure was in a hurry lately.

**X.O.X**

The two youngest Cooper children sat quietly on opposite sides of the kitchen table, Michaela at the far end, closest to their sleeping quarters. Colleen and Brian were busy completing their homework, having finished supper only several hours ago. Michaela alternated between some light sewing and utter daydream, aware that it was nearly the children's bedtime, and she would once again be left with only her thoughts.

Colleen was the first to break the silence, her voice shrill and shocked.

"Brian! Give it back…I mean it…" Colleen reached across the table, her younger brother having just snatched the thin lead pencil from her grasp.

"No… I broke mine… and I'm almost done…" He began scribbling the arithmetic problem out, Colleen frowning and continuing to protest against the boy's childlike selfishness.

"That don't just mean you can take mine… I was trying to go over the script for tomorrow… Briaannn…" Colleen looked down towards the end of the table, Michaela remaining consumed in darning one of Brian's socks.

"But… I… I'm… almost done…" Brian pulled away, Colleen refusing to let him win, now just on principle.

"Ma… tell Brian to give me my pencil back…" Colleen raced around to the other side of the table, violently grabbing her brother's right arm.

"No… just a minute…" He struggled, Colleen's grasp on his arm tightening until it hurt.

"Ma! Ma… make him give it back!" Colleen kept a firm grip on her brother's arm, the anger prevalent in her voice only causing the pincer-like hold on his arm to strengthen.

"Owww!" Brian screeched, the pencil remaining clenched in the palm of his hand. Michaela didn't react until Brian's slightly tortured cries rang out.

"Colleen!" Michaela let the sewing drop to the table in front of her, suddenly aware of the scuffle that had ensured.

"Ma… he took my pencil… won't give it back…" Colleen's voice was exasperated, her hold on Brian's arm having softened somewhat, however was still firm.

"But I need it…" The young boy protested, Colleen managing to pry the thin lead from his tightly gripped fingers.

"Well that's tough…!" Colleen fought slightly immaturely for her pencil once again, having determined that Michaela was making no effort to intercede in the slightly heated disagreement.

"Aw, Colleen… I…" Brian pulled back on the fragile object, both siblings aware of the snapping sound, each pulling their hands away as the now broken pencil hit the wooden floorboards and rolled under the table.

"See… now no one has a pencil to write with…" Michaela sighed, recommencing the repair work on Brian's dark brown sock, having not moved from her observatory position.

"Nah… we've got two now…" Brian quickly scurried under the table, emerging with the two pieces, reaching for his pocketknife and beginning to messily shave the two ends into nice, sharp tips.

"Brian, I don't exactly think that was the point…" Michaela watched as he handed Colleen her end, which was significantly shorter.

"Hey, that ain't fair... was _my_ pencil to begin with!" The fair-headed girl groused, frowning between Michaela and her younger brother, realizing this display of sibling rivalry had gone far beyond the issue of pencils.

Michaela observed silently as the two children began their heated fight once again, her eyes narrowing, before looking away in disinterest, not having the energy to intercede.

"Well… ok… but only coz you got fatter hands…" He rolled his eyes, reluctantly swapping pencils with his sister.

"Brian! I do not…" Colleen was about to take her seat back in front of her script, when she comprehended his statement.

"Do too… I got nice little hands… see… don't I, Ma?" Brian turned to Michaela for support, her gaze downcast at the sock she was mending, whilst her mind remained miles and miles away.

"Ma…? Ma…" Brian whined noticeably, taking the four small steps along the edge of the table to arrive at Michaela's side, his right hand going to her shoulder to draw her attention.

"Don't I, Ma…?" He squeezed her shoulder, Colleen having busied herself in her work, long since tiring of his childish competitiveness..

"Sorry…" Michaela tensed her shoulders responsively, being pulled out of her daydream, looking between the children for several moments, trying to pick up on what she'd missed.

"Ma, you ain't heard nothin' we've been sayin'…" Brian narrowed his eyebrows, frustrated by the fact that his mother was not giving him the attention he felt he was entitled to.

Michaela let her jaw drop slightly, tempted to reassure the child she had heard his conversation, when all three individuals turned at the unexpected sound of the door being flung open.

"Dr. Mike… you gotta come… Saloon… Saloon was held up…Hank's been hurt… got shot…" Matthew, completely out of breath, burst into the room. Perspiration was dripping from his temples, having galloped Scout the entire way out to the homestead from town, where'd he'd spent the evening with Ingrid.

Michaela dropped the sewing on the edge of the table, quickly locating her bag on the mantelpiece, looking thoughtfully between the two worried younger children.

"How… how badly is he hurt?" Michaela attempted to deduce just how quickly she needed to get into town.

"Real bad, Dr. Mike… lost… a lota blood… was hit in the chest… Jake's got pressure on the wound like I told him, tryin' to slow the bleedin', but…" Matthew trailed off, Michaela arriving in the doorway beside him.

"Matthew, you need to stay here with the children, I'll take Scout in," she ordered, arriving out onto the porch, Matthew and Brian reaching quickly for her arm and hand respectively.

"Dr. Mike… you ain't ridin' into town by yourself… I'll hitch up the wagon…" Matthew nodded, his decision firm, Brian merely clinging to her hand out of habit.

"There isn't time… And I won't have Colleen and Brian out here alone all night…" Michaela raised an eyebrow, almost daring him to challenge her. She had arrived at the bottom of the porch steps before she heard his voice again.

"Fine, but I'm hitchin' the wagon and we're following you in…" Matthew looked to Colleen in the doorway, the young girl nodding immediately and rushing back inside to collect the necessary items they'd require for an overnight stay.

"If you insist…" Michaela dismissed his protectiveness, securing her medical bag to the pommel, mounting the tall horse and pushing him into an immediate canter, moving into a gallop once she'd traveled twenty or so yards from the homestead.

"Come on… move it…!" Matthew turned to his younger brother, who was gazing off into the darkened path, and quickly directed him to help get the wagon ready.

**X.O.X**

Michaela felt herself pounding in the saddle, seeing the main street come into view, as she pushed the horse faster and faster. Scout was noticeably straining by this stage, having been required to travel at a gallop from the town to the homestead and now back again. Michaela, having had to encourage the horse significantly the last mile of so, murmured gratitude for Flash's smaller size as she saw the dim lamps around the town draw closer and closer.

Michaela tightened her grip on the reins, approaching the Clinic. She was aware of the dozen or so townspeople crowded around the porch, all looking towards her as they heard the horse's hooves scuffing noisily against the dirt street.

Dismounting Scout, surprised at the significantly longer drop to the ground, Michaela reached back awkwardly, retrieving her medical bag and, still out of breath from the long ride, began pushing her way through the crowds of people, eventually making it to the closed wooden door of the Clinic.

Jake and Dorothy looked across the room, audible sighs of relief being emitted when they were able to visually confirm Michaela's presence.

"Oh, thank goodness… Michaela… just all happened too fast… heard shooting… came outside… Jake and Mr. Howlser were dragging Hank from the Saloon…" Dorothy trailed off, realizing Michaela was not particularly interested in the details, having crossed the room to begin examining Hank's unconscious form.

The bartender was lying motionless on the examination table, a pool of blood in the middle of his chest, quickly serving to aid Michaela in her diagnosis.

"He gonna be all right, Dr. Mike…?" Jake's eyes widened, more alarmed by the speed of Michaela's movements than from the extent of Hank's injuries.

"The bullet's punctured the left lung… torn a branch of the aorta by the looks of the blood…" She gestured momentarily to the bright red blood seeping from the small hole just to the left of his chest, the color indicative of the location of the damage.

"Dorothy… I need you to… over there… instrument case… scalpel…" Michaela managed to rip Hank's shirt open, allowing her to examine the wound. Jake stood back, a hand covering his mouth, immediately opposed to all the blood.

"Jake over in the cabinet, bottom shelf… I need chloroform and a cloth… you'll need to administer it, one drop a minute… you remember?" Michaela's voice was ragged, aware of the frantic, concerned chatter streaming in from the porch, doing nothing to lower her stress levels.

Quickly checking Hank's pulse, she knew he'd lost a significant amount of blood, and, waiting for Dorothy and Jake to find their assigned items, Michaela increased the pressure to Hank's chest, working blindly against the precise location of the damage until Dorothy slipped the scalpel into her hand.

"What ya gonna do?" Dorothy, her hair plaited messily down her back, queried, the redhead's eyes darting suspiciously between Hank and Michaela, trying to deduce even a non-verbal response.

"Need to… open the chest cavity, locate the bullet, and suture the tear… careful not to administer too much, Jake… he's having difficulty breathing as it is…" Michaela felt her tired eyes squint, in an attempt to see clearly in the dull light, not even sure if chloroform was the safest option given Hank's shallow and gasped breathing.

"Oh my…" Dorothy brought her hand to her chest, as Michaela made the large incision around the bullet hole, feeling the trapped air expire from her mouth as she mentally chastised her forgetfulness.

"Damn… Dorothy… instrument case… bring it here… I need…clamps…" Michaela sighed, realizing she now had to control major bleeding without even having a suitable operating field prepared, nor having any clamps or sutures nearby.

"Just slow down… Dr. Mike… tell us what you need and we'll get it…" Jake saw the sweat form on Michaela's brow, Dorothy crossing the room, quickly returning with the opened wooden chest, placing it awkwardly against Hank's side.

"These?" Dorothy handed the clamps nervously to Michaela, the physician securing them either end of the incision, her anxiety dropping when she was able to take-in the exact nature of the damage.

Michaela worked silently for several moments, Dorothy and Jake exchanging naïve looks of genuine concern.

"The bullet… appears to be lodged behind the lung… I need to suture the tear to the aorta, the two tears to the lung, and finally extract the bullet…" Michaela looked up as the door burst open, Colleen entering the room.

"What can I…?" The young girl barely had time to speak, Michaela cutting her off in a pressing assertiveness.

"Colleen… suture set…" Michaela instructed without taking a breath, returning her attention to the incision site in front of her as Colleen obediently carried out her request.

**X.O.X**

Michaela stretched her neck from side to side slowly, Colleen handing her a towel to clean her hands, Jake and Dorothy remaining expectantly at the head of the examination table.

"He gonna wake up?" Jake set the chloroform and cloth on the desk to his right, taking in the paleness of Hank's skin, and the blankness of Michaela's expression.

"I… don't know…" She muttered bluntly in reply, her voice was breathy as she turned to Colleen.

"Will you go and ask Matthew to come and help Jake move Hank upstairs…" Colleen nodded automatically, making her way towards to door, before turning back with a single concern.

"Ma… what do I say? Is he… gonna die?" The young girl's face melted into a frown, her hands gesturing to the crowd of people on the other side of the door.

"Don't say anything, Colleen… we'll know by morning…" Michaela shook her head, her eyes dropping closed for several moments, about ready to fall asleep standing up. She didn't open them again until she heard the wooden door close, Colleen on the other side of it.

"Michaela, you ain't stayin' up with him all night?" Dorothy took several steps towards her friend, a hand tenderly brushing Michaela's arm as she heard the soft sound of her own voice, filling the otherwise silent room.

"I'm afraid I don't have a choice… if he starts bleeding… or has further breathing difficulties… I may need to operate again," Michaela ran a hand down the side of her face, utter exhaustion quickly replacing itself with the mild comfort; if she was to endure yet another sleepless night, she'd at least have a new problem to focus on.

**X.O.X**

"Brian's asleep…" Colleen poked her head around the door of the upstairs recovery room, seeing Michaela taking her seat in the padded rocking chair to the left side of the bed, furthest from the doorway.

"Thank-you," She looked up with a soft smile of appreciation, Colleen entering the room curious as to Hank's progress.

"Dr. Mike… how… I mean... is there anything I can do?" The young girl kept her voice low, Michaela supported her chin in her right hand, her arm rested on the arm of the rocking chair.

"No… You best get some sleep… you've got school in a few hours… what.. what time is it?" Michaela frowned, trying to calculate.

"Was almost three just after Brian got to sleep. He ain't gonna wanna go to school tomorrow…" Colleen rolled her eyes, predicting her brother's opposition immediately.

"Well, there's no point discussing it now… depends on whether he…" Michaela gestured to the unconscious man lying in the bed several feet from her, momentarily scolding herself for even vocalizing that he might not make it.

"Ma… could Hank… really… die?" Colleen read Michaela's solemn expression, realizing that the prospect was now a distinct possibility.

"Yes… I… I don't think he will, but I can't be certain…" The pair continued to watch Hank in silence for several moments, his chest rising and falling with each effortful breath.

"Night, Dr. Mike…" Colleen sighed, lowering her head as she moved quietly into the hallway, Michaela hearing her gentle footsteps as the girl descended the wooden stairs.

Michaela concentrated her attention on the sound of Colleen's movements on the steps, until she realized they'd long since ceased and she was listening to nothing. Alone. She was now alone again, with only her troubled thoughts. The aching tension returned to her chest, when she stumbled once again upon the reality that had consumed her every vacant thought these last three days.

Glancing across at her patient, still motionless, his eyes closed peacefully, Michaela found herself speculating on the time that had passed. Weeks, months… Days gone by in the blink of an eyelid… not that knowing would have made any difference. Ensuring Hank's chest continued to rise and fall, his labored breathing now quite reassuring, Michaela heard a suppressed, derisive chuckle escape her lips, only beginning to imagine Hank's reaction.

Catching herself in mocking humor, Michaela felt her chest drop heavily; this was not something she could deny any longer. Glancing her gaze downwards, Michaela knew the inevitable was only going to become more obvious in time; the last three months had seen her drop quite a few pounds, however her once loose clothing, was now becoming firmer, this realization sending another shiver through her arms and face.

Drawing an exasperated breath, Michaela knew medically there was little she could do. The idea had festered however, and Michaela was certainly aware of the things she should no longer be doing. This mental transgression brought two opposing views colliding into each other, sending Michaela into a cognitive battlefield of voices and emotions.

_What am I… No… No… this is wrong. It goes against everything I believe in. I'm a doctor… I have taken an oath to preserve life… No… I can't think of it like that… It's not… life… it's…_

She felt the nausea begin rising once again from her stomach. Swallowing heavily and taking a gasped breath, her gaze drifted to the ceiling above her, waiting for the discomfort to subside. Moving her line of sight downwards, towards the window overlooking the main street, the inner dialogue began once again; this time, her scientific, rational mind taking control.

_Michaela… you know it is… you know there's no difference… If it were anyone else…_

"But it's _not_… it's not…" Michaela jumped slightly, realizing she'd vocalized that last thought, her words coming out as a strangled cry as she tightened her grip on the arms of the chair. Clearing her throat, in an attempt to dry the tears that had begun welling in her eyes, Michaela looked back across the room, fragments of a distant conversation coming back to her.

Pulling herself to her feet wearily, Michaela crossed the room, the words from their conversation less than a year earlier, playing over in her head. Michaela realized in that instant, she now had more in common with the ill-tempered bartender than she'd ever thought was possible.

"_He needed his Father… He needed to be here, with you…"_

"_You saw how they treated him… Teasin' him, pushin' him around… You think I wanted him to go through that… everybody laughin' coz he's different… thinkin' he's not normal…"_

"_Not to mention what they'd think about you…"_

"_I was protectin' him!"_

"_Are you sure you weren't just protecting yourself!"_

"_Who do you think you are, judging me, lady. You weren't here… you don't know…"_

"_I know… that I would never do that to a boy of my own…"_

"_What's it like to walk on water, Michaela…"_

After checking his pulse, Michaela let Hank's right wrist drop back down against the mattress, her eyes closing with a small shake of her head. He was right. She'd had no right to judge him without knowing the full situation. And here she was… in a similar… albeit far worse circumstance.

"Hank… I… I'm sorry… I'm sorry I was so hard on you…" Michaela reached tentatively for his forehead, ensuring no fever was present.

"I shouldn't have been so quick to tell you, you were wrong… I really had no idea what you were going through," she whispered, delicately pulling the blanket down from his chest to examine his dressing.

"I… I never told you… I was proud of you… for finally admitting the truth. That took courage, more than I think I'll ever possess." Ensuring there was no further bleeding, Michaela drew the quilt back up to his shoulders, studying his weak, defenseless face.

"Hank…" Michaela reached for his hand, feeling the terrified tears build up in her eyes once again. In that instant, she could see through Hank's closed eyelids, the scorn and ridicule that lay ahead. Only… this was worse… Hank was proud enough to be able to admit he'd loved his son, despite the shame around Zack's parentage.

It was at that moment, she released her grip on Hank's hand; for it was there that their world's differed… Hank had loved Clarice…

Michaela could hear the detrimental overtones of people she considered friends; Olive, Dorothy, Loren… even the Reverend would find it scandalous.

Standing and pacing back around the edge of the bed, the only sound audible being that of her shoes sliding across the floorboards, Michaela felt the disgust flood over her. Up until that point, she'd been able to clinically detach herself from thinking specifically about what this child was… what it represented.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Feeling herself sink down into the softness of the rocking chair beside Hank's bed, Michaela's eyes unknowingly slipped closed, the darkness behind them soon filling with sights, sounds, sensations… It was the first time she'd relived it in months, the first time it had worked its way into her lucid mind without her choosing so.

_The coldness hit her first… this exacerbated the fear, which had already paralyzed her. Almost having accustomed to the night air against her bare flesh, Michaela felt a weight pressing down on her, immobilizing her completely._

_I can't breathe... I can't move... please... make this stop... make it go away... this is not happening... oh God... why, why is this happening... I still can't breathe... I can feel... I can feel his hands... his body..._

_His hands... they're touching me... why I am letting this happen... I'm not... I'm not letting this happen... I can't stop it... the knife... the blade glistening against the moonlight... he'll do it... I know he will... I mean nothing to him... He doesn't care... he doesn't know what this means to me... he can't feel my fear, my pain... he doesn't know what he's taking..._

Michaela's feet scuffed lightly across the floorboards, as her head rested back further against the back of the chair. Her mind continued flooding traumatic thoughts through her consciousness.

_It's not supposed to be this way… this isn't meant to be happening… Don't think about it, Michaela… think about something else… I want to fight… I can't fight… he'll kill me… Stay still… but he's touching me… I'm not supposed to withstand this, I'm meant to fight… I can't… Block it out, Michaela… don't feel it… but the blackness behind my eyes is worse… the children, Sully; no. Don't think about him, Michaela, don't. The children. They're safe… they need me._

_I can feel his rough fingers on my skin… stop it, Michaela… block it out… Brian… but I know what's going to happen… His hand is on my knee… I can't move… I can't resist… I can't stop shaking… Someone… anyone… please don't let this happen… please… Father… do something… please… Don't let him hurt me… I'm scared, Father… Please don't let this happen._

Unbeknownst to Michaela, who remained absorbed in recollection, her hands had fallen to her lap, gripping together as they had done months before. Her right fingers clasped around her clenched left hand, the spoken words from that cold, dark night melded with her inner cognitions, as she was confronted with the overwhelming emotions once again.

"_No….." Yes, Michaela, yes… I can't… breathe… burning… can't move… I can't think…_

"_Stop…" Don't bother, Michaela… you know he won't listen… "Please…" Stop it, Michaela… you're stronger than that… But I can't… it hurts… I can't make it stop… I should have fought whilst I'd had the chance. I'd rather be dead, Blood… I can taste blood… my mouth… I… I'm crying… Michaela, stop it…_

"_Sully…" Michaela, will you stop this nonsense… he's dead, Michaela… he can't help you. The damage is done now, anyway… No… he can't be dead… it's not fair… it isn't the way it's supposed to be… he's supposed to rescue me… Michaela, since when did you ever need a man's help… you've made it this far on your own… look at your life… why do you need his help all of a sudden? "No… stop…" I… I'm not strong enough… That was another life… not this life… I'll never have that life back again… never…_

_Open you eyes, Michaela. It's over… He's gone. I can move… ah… no… I can't… I'm hurt… blood… something's wrong… Stop the bleeding… I have to stop the bleeding… this is useless… Oh my God… I… I'm going to die… sleep… no, Michaela, you're in shock… stop it… I can't… I'm tired… my eyes are blurry… the children… I can't see… Father, please don't let me die… please…_

**X.O.X**

"Father?" Michaela continued beside the older man, the pair moving down an impossibly long, dark corridor.

"There is something I need to show you…" Josef muttered, reaching down to take Michaela's right hand.

She stopped, pulling her hand away unconsciously. Josef nodded silently in understanding.

"Mike… nothing has changed…" Michaela felt her jaw drop… she'd heard those words before… what was going on, where was she?

"Father, everything has changed," she whispered, her gaze lowering to the delicate buttons of his shirt.

"I know, Michaela. I'm here to help you…" Josef turned back towards the seemingly endless corridor.

"Why weren't you there before… when I needed you… why wasn't anyone there to help me?" Michaela felt her voice rise in her throat, as her hands clutched the edges of her red velvet jacket.

"I was there, Michaela… you knew it too…" Josef held his gaze deep into her eyes, Michaela felt a lump forming in her throat.

"Can't you help me, now?" She wasn't sure if he'd understood the underlying ethos of her words, however hoped he would.

"I cannot, Michaela… This is something you will have to decide for yourself…" Josef reached forwards to grasp her hands tenderly, Michaela never resisting.

"What is there to decide, Father? What can I do to stop this?" Michaela's eye's glistened lightly, reluctantly shifting her eyes downwards to address the issue both were aware they were discussing.

"The final decision is up to you, Michaela… we both know there are ways. You must be careful, though…" Josef squeezed her hands delicately, before letting them drop away.

"But… surely you do not approve… after everything you've taught me…" Michaela's awkward words betrayed her confusion; was her father giving her his blessing to murder the child within her.

"I love _you_, Michaela. It pains me to see you in such distress… I would not judge you…" Josef muttered almost inaudibly, as the two turned slowly and recommenced their journey towards the end of the corridor.

Michaela felt her feet moving slowly underneath her, the dark wooden doorway at the end of the corridor eventually appearing, although still many yards away.

She looked to her right arm, feeling a tugging on her wrist. Turning, she saw the small hand against the soft velvet of her sleeve.

"Ma… I wanna go home…." Brian whispered, pulling her back along the corridor. She was torn between the strong grip the child had on her, and her father's serious expression.

"Michaela… this way…" Josef extended a hand out towards her, Michaela alternating her tormented glance between both influential figures in her life.

"Brian… I need to…" She tried to prize the child's fingers from her wrist. Josef continued on without her.

"Ma… we have to go… Ma…. Ma…." His grip only strengthened, Michaela saw the desperation in his eyes, before noticing her father in the distance, his back towards her as he continued.

"Father… Father, wait! I… I'm coming… I…" Michaela couldn't move, her body frozen to the very spot, the bare corridor beginning to pull away from her.

She was drifting away, the image of her Father fading as it grew smaller and smaller, the blackness around her increasing.

"Ma… Ma…" she could still hear Brian's voice, however it remained close in her ear, if anything it was getting stronger.

"Father," Michaela called again, realizing it was useless. The blackness surrounded her and the child's voice returned.

"Mornin, Ma!" Brian pulled on her wrist affectionately until he received a response.

"Wait… Father… Brian… Brian!" Michaela managed to pull her arm free from the boy's hand, her eyes drifting around the sunlight-filled recovery room, looking down and seeing her Salmon-colored blouse and dark maroon skirt, both slightly crumpled from the night's disturbed sleep.

"Sorry, Ma… but it's mornin'… were you dreamin' 'bout Grandpa, Ma?" The young boy began idly fidgeting with the button on her sleeve, not satisfied until he'd undone it, and refastened it.

"I… yes…" Michaela moved her legs slowly from their crossed position, as she gradually pieced together the events from the previous day.

"Was I there, too?" Brian moved to the edge of the bed, still in his sleeping attire, Michaela answering his question subconsciously, as she turned and saw the sleeping figure beside them.

"Yes, you… Hank!" She arrived on her feet instantaneously, rushing around to the left side of the bed, by the doorway, to assess his condition.

"He all right, Ma?" Brian rotated slightly, the small boy looking between the bartender and his mother with curious, however moderate, concern.

"I think so… his breathing is stable…" Michaela frowned, removing the quilt to assess the surgical site.

"And there's no further bleeding… Hank?" She replaced the quilt delicately, squeezing the man's upper arm softly, a low grunt sufficing as response for now.

"Hank…?" Michaela repeated, reassured that her patient had regained some level of consciousness.

"Mi... Michaela…?" He opened his eyes groggily, Brian standing from the edge of the bed to arrive at Michaela's side.

"Everything's going to be all right, Hank… You were shot. Last night, at the Saloon?" She phrased her words as a question, trying to jog his recollection.

"Yeah… ah… three guys… held up the store… tried to… grab the gun…" Hank coughed lightly in between words, aware of the pain in his chest.

"You've lost a lot of blood… you'll need to remain here for a week or so… Are you in any discomfort?" Michaela guessed that he was, however now surprised when he denied it with a subtle shake of his head.

"Brian… can you go downstairs and get my bag, please?" Michaela rested her hand on the boy's shoulder, as he happily obliged, and disappeared from the room.

"Michaela…" Hank reached awkwardly for her hand, his voice still horse and breathy.

"I'm right here, Hank… I'm going to get you something for the pain…" She gripped his right hand between hers, seeing the fear lurking behind his rich, blue eyes.

"Sorry… I… I never got to tell ya…" He looked away, Michaela dropping her gaze down to their interlocked hands.

"Got it, Ma…" Brian ran back into the room, the black bag being thrust onto the bed beside them.

"Thank-you, Brian… You'd best get ready for school, sweetheart…" Michaela dismissed the boy, busying herself locating the bottle of Laudanum within the tan-lined bag.

"Michaela… you're stronger 'an me… Always reckoned that," he whispered, Michaela held the glass bottle in her right hand, turning back to him, her expression one of incomprehension.

"Sorry?" She prompted, removing the cork from the bottle, leaning forwards about to administer the analgesic.

"Well, just… givin' up Zack's the hardest thing I've ever had to do… but 'least knew it was for the best… 'least knew he was better off where he was…" Hank bent his head forwards, allowing the bitter liquid into his mouth, his head falling back against the pillow moments later.

"He knows you love him. That's all that matters…" Michaela deflected her gaze, the previous night's long-forgotten discourse wafting back into her memory.

"Didn't realize straight away it was 'right to admit that… thought I was meant to treat him with the same disregard as the rest of the town…" Hank saw the uneasiness begin to creep over Michaela's face, not quite able to interpret it.

"Sorry… didn't mean for that to be awkward… just meant… well… it ain't easy makin' secrets public in a town like this… in the end though… people forget… nothin' ever seems as bad once it's out in the open…" Hank watched Michaela's eyes pull away from his, her attention diverting back to sealing the bottle of Laudanum, returning it to her bag, her fingers working nervously on the metal clasp.

"Just sayin'… you said you were proud a me… and I ain't as strong as you, Michaela…" Hank felt the medication begin to take effect, his eyes drooping closed wearily, vaguely noticing the physician's shoulders tense in response to his final words.

"Excuse me…" Michaela slipped from the edge of the bed, pacing quickly out into the corridor, her hands covering her mouth in sheer panic when she realized she was alone.

_Oh God… he'd heard her… but what had she said? How did he know what she was referring to? Hank was the last person able to keep gossip like this to himself._

Feeling the wall against her back, Michaela took several calming breaths, her body relaxing, however her mind continuing its disjointed inner speech.

_Michaela, what on earth possessed you to talk with Hank… you're falling apart… you can't go on like this. You know what you have to do; you know how to make this all go away… you have not got long, Michaela…_


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

**X.O.X**

**Friday, 11****th**** August, 1869**

_**Two Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela slipped through the back door of the homestead, feeling the floorboards substitute for the softer gravel under her feet. She was glad of the momentary solitude, finding the cool breeze a welcome relief from the commotion and superficial conversation taking place inside.

Arriving quickly to the pump beside the barn, Michaela reached for a wooden bucket, and began filling it with water, aware of stray notes from Brian's harmonica filtering through the night air.

Her attention absorbed by the transparent liquid, Michaela was unaware of Sully's footsteps behind her.

"Everythin' all right?" The sudden rich, deep voice hitting her consciousness, sent the bucket, held loosely in her right hand, to the ground, water splashing over the tips of her black boots.

She hadn't even heard his utterance, instead groaning under her breath at her clumsiness, and picking the bucket back up.

"Sorry… didn't mean to startle ya…" His voice was lower this time, there was sincerity in his words. Sully gazed over her slightly pale and shocked face, eyes drifting downwards, taking in the olive green checkered shirt she wore, further down to her dark brown skirt, the hem of which was now spotted with splashes of water.

"Thought you were inside with the children…" Michaela attempted to dismiss her carelessness, immediately refilling the bucket with water for the evening dishes.

"Was inside… now I'm out here," Sully replied, with a slight stating-the-obvious slur, Michaela not even turning to acknowledge his attempted humor.

"That's apparent…" She kept her gaze on the task before her, seeing his hand appear in front of her to take the now filled bucket.

"Here," he offered, Michaela instinctively refusing.

"I…" She sighed, rolling her eyes subtly as the bucket was nonetheless taken from her grasp.

"Yeah, I know you can… I wanna talk though…" Sully placed the wooden object on the ground beside them, an arm slipping towards Michaela's back as he arrived next to her.

"Sully…" She protested softly, not sure if it was the physical contact or the proposed conversation she was objecting to more.

"Just for a minute…" He reassured, gesturing back towards the steps leading up to the porch of the homestead.

She acquiesced reluctantly, the pair remaining seated side by side on the edge of the porch. Michaela clasped her hands tightly in her lap, just wanting him to say whatever it was he was going to say, so they could move back inside.

"Ain't had much time to talk to ya alone this last week… what with… the children and all…" Sully watched her fingers move nervously in her lap, turning, so as able to see her face. She showed no response to his words, so he continued.

"What I wanna say to ya… I… don't want ya to think… I mean… I don't want you to feel under any pressure… however… Brian was askin' me again tonight… and well… after last week, I thought… thought it might be time…" He cleared his throat, aware his nervous phrases were not being delivered with the ease and confidence he'd intended.

"Sully… will you just…" Michaela had remained distracted, not interpreting the underlying subtext of his lines, to deduce where he was steering the conversation.

"Well… things been goin' pretty well between us, ain't they? And… well… you know where I'm coming from, Michaela… but don't want to push you if you're not ready… Just thought was somethin' you might wanna think about…" Sully couldn't believe he had to have this conversation all over again... the first time had been awkward enough… and this was indescribably worse.

Michaela slowly moved her distant gaze to her left, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to concentrate on the conversation, again having only taken in the occasional word. Her face was blank, however her expression indicated for him to continue.

"Michaela, like I said… I love you… and I want people to know that… want everyone to know that my feelin's for ya haven't changed… I want… if you do… for us to have a future together…" Sully felt his left arm move slowly towards Michaela's interlocked hands, taking her left hand tenderly in his, feeling their eyes creep towards each other's.

She felt his words through the soft touch of his hand, suddenly realizing just what he was saying. Michaela knew she couldn't pull away, despite every muscle from her shoulders to her fingers crying out for her to do so.

_Why does this have to be so awkward? Why do I have to feel this way? I have to say something… His eyes are drifting away; he thinks he's said the wrong thing… No. I can do this._

"So do I," Michaela felt the truthful words escape her lips, still unable to block the dark voice calling to her from the back of her mind.

His eyes moved back to meet with hers immediately; his mouth forming a small smile, as he nodded in receipt of her utterance.

"We'll take it as slow as ya want… after all, got all the time in the world…" Sully slid several inches over the rough porch step towards her, his right arm gently encircling her back, fingertips resting softly on her shoulder. He was aware that she might pull away at any given moment, however also understood that any walls put up concerning physical closeness would only have to be broken down eventually.

Michaela felt her teeth rest on her lower lip, her eyes widening momentarily as she looked up at the full moon above them. She wanted to tell him… she wanted his help… his support…

_No. This isn't proper. This is my problem… and I'll handle it. He wouldn't understand how I feel. He'd… never understand… how could he?… I'm not even sure I do… No, Michaela… he'll only try to talk you out of what is already a torturous decision._

Sensing her head drop against his shoulder, Michaela realized she had no verbal reply. It didn't seem to matter. She felt his arm migrate to the side of her face, his fingers delicately trailing along her flowing hair, as her eyes dropped closed. His lips rested against her forehead, as his right arm slipped back down to her upper arm, securing her snuggly against him.

The blackness behind her eyelids immediately made Michaela realize just how exhausted she was, her last conscious sound being his calming, flowing voice, her last awareness his smooth lips gliding over her forehead as he whispered to her. Michaela did not recall when she stopped hearing his words.

"Sometimes a shadow falls over the moon… and it looks dark… but the light's there… it's just... behind it. It's not gone, it's just covered up for awhile. You've got that light… I've seen it… trust that it's there… the shadow will pass…"

Sully looked down from the moon, having felt her head grow heavy against his shoulder. The smile broadened on his lips when he realized she'd fallen asleep. He took several moments to study their hands in her lap, fingers interlocked. Letting a contented sigh pass from his mouth, Sully felt the soft flesh of her arm under the fingers of his right hand, bringing his lips to her forehead in a soft, unhurried kiss.

**X.O.X**

**Tuesday, 15****th**** August, 1869**

_**Four Days Later – 16 Weeks Gestation**_

**X.O.X**

Sully remained patiently resting on the bench outside the clinic, the hot sun streaming through onto the porch, where he lay prostrate, arms draped in relaxation over his face, eyes closed. Unable to recall a moment when he'd felt so calm; everything was just as it should be. Sully exhaled loudly, a hand dropping down to stroke Wolf's warm fur by his side.

"Quite comfortable there, I trust?" He heard a soft, feminine voice several feet from him. Nearly falling from the bench, Sully pulled himself into a sitting position, his eyes opening slowly, expecting his eyes to lock on Michaela's delicate features.

"Gotcha… thought Dr. Mike'd caught ya, didn't ya?" The young girl giggled, still working on her 'Bostonian' accent for the play.

"Don't ya ever scare me like that again…" Sully struggled to find his voice, just glad he'd opened his eyes before opening his mouth.

"Sorry…" Colleen flashed a cheeky grin in Sully's direction, aware he was only teasing.

"Finished early?" He muttered, surprised when Brian appeared nowhere in sight.

"Yeah… they're just workin' on the fight scene… Brian needs more practice," Colleen replied, her schoolbooks clasped against her chest as they heard the Clinic door open.

"Thought I heard voices out here…" Michaela stepped through the door, medical bag in her right hand.

"Afternoon… yeah… um… busy day?" Sully and Colleen shared a knowing exchange, before he crossed the porch to stand by Michaela's side, his right hand brushing her arm ever so slightly.

"Not especially… where's your brother?" Michaela was beginning to feel uncomfortable with Sully's continual proximity, this only having increased since their conversation the previous Friday evening.

"Still rehearsin'… the Reverend said they'll only be ten minutes though…" Colleen responded, her eyes narrowing, noticing the sharpness in Michaela's tone.

"Well, I just need to go over to the store, pick up a few items for supper…" Michaela changed the subject quickly, beginning to stride along the porch towards the Mercantile.

Sully frowned slightly, although no-one noticed. He'd picked up on the coolness of her dismissal, and quickly moved to her side, Colleen tilting her head, unsure of her plans.

"Michaela… everything all right today?" He narrowed his eyebrows, catching her right arm once again.

"Today was fine, Sully. Only a few patients… nothing serious…" she responded, the pair turning when they heard Brian's exulted cries.

"Ma! Sully! Wait up!" The young boy called, racing down the main street, managing to dodge wagons and horses, his books strapped over his shoulder, and script clutched protectively in his right hand.

"Afternoon, sweetheart… how was school?" Michaela squeezed the boy's shoulder, his attention quickly being directed towards Sully.

"Ahh… Sully… can you help me with somethin'… it's for the play…" The boy lowered his gaze, his eyes flickering between his mother awkwardly, not wanting her involved.

"Sure, Brian… what's up?" Sully bent down, seeing the secrecy hidden behind the boy's eyes.

"Ah, thing is… wanted to ask ya… um…" Michaela took the hint, gesturing for Colleen to join her.

"Oaa, have fun…" The young girl chuckled she and Michaela continuing on towards the general store.

**X.O.X**

"Colleen, will you get some potatoes for supper, please?" Michaela dismissed the young girl, arriving at the counter, Dorothy's pleasant face greeting her.

"Afternoon, Michaela… what can I help you with?" Dorothy smiled, closing the lid of the cash tin, to give Michaela her complete attention.

"A tin of lard, please… and Colleen's just fetching some potatoes…" Michaela smiled, setting her medical bag on the counter to retrieve her purse within it.

"Didn't see you at church, Sunday… anything wrong?" Dorothy muttered, Michaela predicting the question.

"No… ah Brian had a slight fever, didn't want to risk it developing, with the play so close…" Michaela exaggerated the truth; Brian had complained of a slight headache, and she'd conveniently been persuaded he had a mild temperature.

"Probably for the best… those children have been working ever so hard… wouldn't want anything to go wrong now… Hope you're not comin' down with it too, though…." Dorothy frowned slightly, noticing the drained expression on Michaela's face.

"Oh… I… doubt that… you know what Brian's like; slightest little illness and he's dying," Michaela dismissed her friend's concern, as Colleen appeared by her side, placing the groceries on the counter gently.

"Thank-you…" Michaela smiled, Dorothy scribbling the items down on a crumpled piece of paper.

"Just you've been lookin' awful tired, Michaela… That's one dollar seventy." Dorothy removed the pencil from the paper, slipping it thoughtfully behind her left ear.

"Ma was tendin' to Hank all last week…" Colleen defended, as Michaela paid for the groceries, remaining silent.

"Oh, how silly of me… yes… glad to see he's made a complete recovery… just gettin' so dangerous 'round here lately…" Dorothy paced from behind the counter, Colleen sensing that her presence was being surreptitiously shunned, and took the groceries out to the wagon.

"And what's this I hear 'bout you and Sully…" Dorothy turned the corner of her mouth up, crossing her arms against her chest, noticing Michaela's eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Dorothy… how on earth…?" The physician let out a slightly disbelieving gasp, surprised at how quickly word had spread.

"Well… been helpin' out with the play these last few days… and well… out of the mouths of babes…" Dorothy smiled warmly, grasping Michaela's arm supportively.

"We're… taking it one day at a time, I think…" Michaela glanced back out towards the main street, seeing Matthew approach with the wagon.

"Probably a wise decision…" Dorothy released her grip, noticing Michaela prepare to leave.

"I'll ah… see you for coffee tomorrow?" Michaela turned, about to leave when Dorothy's reply sent chills running over her skin.

"Of course… glad to see you're… ah… lookin' a little healthier these last few weeks too… Was gettin' worried…" Dorothy meant to refer to Michaela's weight gain supportively. Having noticed just how much weight she'd dropped since her abduction, Dorothy assumed Michaela would be relieved to be returning to a slightly more normal appearance.

"I… ah… must be going…" Michaela felt her mouth gape, her mind replaying Dorothy's words, her ears still not quite believing she'd heard them.

With that, Michaela turned and swiftly exited the store, her mind still reeling as she climbed up onto the wagon beside Sully, handing her medical bag back to Brian, Sully coaxing Bear into a gentle walk.

Michaela felt her surrounding's moving quickly around her, looking from her hands, clasped neatly in her lap, back to the children, and back out towards the buildings around them.

_See, Michaela… you knew you were only fooling yourself. If you don't take dire action soon, it's going to be too late to hide._

**X.O.X**

**Friday, 18****th**** August, 1869**

_**Three Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela placed the hot cup of freshly brewed chamomile tea in the middle of the table, careful not to make any unnecessary noise as she resumed her seat, various medical textbooks open beside her, none proving to be of any assistance.

Leaning forwards to adjust the lamp in front of her, Michaela picked up the pencil that lay across the current journal she was reading and idly began trying to focus on the words before her eyes.

Turning a page, doubtful she would find any solace in the following chapter, Michaela glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece: Three-forty. Taking a slow sip of the herbal tea, Michaela hoped it might relax her; however realized tea or no tea, she would not be getting any sleep tonight.

Moving to the index of the textbook beside her, Michaela knew any research would have to be subtle. She knew there were unspoken procedures, and during her time in practice with her father, had seen evidence to this extent. Michaela was also aware that this was not something she could possibly attempt without assistance.

She knew she would have to consider… less invasive alternatives. However, these were by no means guaranteed to be successful. Again Michaela found herself in the middle of what seemed an unending debate.

_Michaela… are you aware of what you're contemplating? Do you hear yourself?_

She was fully aware of exactly what she was contemplating.

_I know… I know this is something I do not believe in… I know in every scientific rationale, that this is murder… but… I… I'd have to move away… I couldn't… expect the children… I couldn't expect anyone to bear this…_

She let her gaze drop downwards, her eyes focusing on her now almost flat stomach, the buttons of her dressing gown proving the only source of distraction.

_Michaela, you can procrastinate as long as you feel is necessary… but the longer you wait… This isn't a decision… this is an indecision. Not deciding, is deciding._

Michaela felt her eyes narrow, her arms rested on the table in front of her, as she grappled with the vague logic her mind was producing.

_Maybe I could mention it… no. What am I thinking… Michaela Quinn, you've never in your life needed anyone's help making a decision before now, nothing is going to change that. Don't you dare let it._

She felt exhaustion creep upon her, her eyes dropping closed every few seconds, the time they remained closed, seeming to increase exponentially.

It was at that moment that her father's face crept back into her mind, the images and voices from the dream several days earlier morphing with her memories of their time working together in Boston into a blurred juxtaposition of unreality.

Michaela soon became aware of the tears flowing silently from her eyes. Chastising herself immediately, swiping at her cheeks with her hands, she was reminded of the fragility of her emotional state, her self-directed frustration only being heightened by this realization.

Managing to pull herself back under control, she cleared her throat, directing her attention as clinically as possible to the textbook in front of her.

Finishing the now cold cup of herbal tea beside her, she found her thoughts drifting from the text before her, random faces flashing into her head once again. Michaela knew she was exhausted. She also knew especially that she should be trying to get more sleep, not less. Michaela looked towards her right, seeing the quilt and top sheet on her bed drawn back invitingly, the low flame of the lamp flickering in front of her, Michaela knew she couldn't give in. Not until she found a solution, not until she knew how to handle this. This was not going to be easy… but the alternative was… unimaginable.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

"Father, I need your help…" Michaela looked around, the brightness of the corridor causing her eyes to squint unconsciously.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd changed your mind, Michaela…" Josef appeared beside her, extending his right hand out slowly for them to continue on their previous journey down the seemingly endless corridor.

"I… I haven't… I don't know what to do. Help me," She drew a quick breath, Josef turning slightly to his left, realizing Michaela was not following by his side.

"I am trying to show you the way, Michaela. Come," he beckoned once again, their eyes meeting, Michaela trusting his voice implicitly, taking an initial step forwards.

"Where… where are we going?" She queried, feeling the tips of her fingers clasp the sides of her skirt nervously.

"You wished for me to show to you the way out of this predicament… I am trying to…" Josef turned sharply, feeling Michaela turn from his side.

"Predicament?… Predicament! How dare you!" she felt her voice leave her, its volume and pitch echoing into the distance. Her jaw dropped open, appalled at the callousness in her father's tone.

"Michaela, come along…" Josef reached for her right arm, his statement dismissive of her previous outburst.

She felt unable to respond, never having imagined her father to be so cold and heartless. Despite her reservations, Michaela felt obliged to continue; she'd never once disobeyed her father, and this hardly seemed the appropriate time to start.

"Are you going to help me?" She whispered, feeling the desperation build in her chest.

"I intend to show you how to help yourself…" Came the cryptic reply, Michaela once again pulling away in frustration.

"I haven't the time for this… either help me, or leave me alone…" She frowned, noticing the amused smile cross his face.

"You think this is funny?" she gasped, her breathing becoming somewhat heavier and strained.

"No, of course not. You're still my Mike, though. Determined to do everything on your own… in your own way…" Josef turned back to her, his expression melting into a neutral expression of sincerity.

"Why won't you listen to me? Why won't you take this seriously?" She felt her shoulders rise and fall with her breathing, her cheeks flushing as she continued ahead of him towards the wooden door in front of them.

"Mike, wait! It is not time, yet…" Josef commanded, watching her move into the distance in front of him.

"I haven't any more time, Father… I can't wait any longer!" Michaela looked downwards, seeing the black tips of her boots appear from underneath her skirt, trying desperately to increase her speed. It was useless.

"Michaela… Michaela…" He remained stationary, his voice knowing and precise.

"Father, please don't stop me… please…" Her gaze, still downcast, saw her feet slow their pace. She was no longer able to move forwards, her feet frozen against an invisible force.

"Not yet, Michaela…" He repeated, his voice monotone and decisive. She turned back towards him, his outline blurring before her eyes.

"I can't wait any longer… I can't…" She recognized the familiar sinking of the floor underneath her, the fading away of her own voice.

"I can't… please…" The blackness was engulfing her once again, the long corridor pulling away until she could no longer see it, a small light in the distance all that remained.

"Dr. Mike… Dr. Mike…?" A voice. Where was she? The small light was growing closer.

"I can't…" She heard herself whisper, aware of a hand on her shoulder, as the light invaded her eyes completely. Michaela felt herself arrive back in her body once again, slowly awakening with a jolt, taking a few seconds to recognize her surroundings.

"Dr. Mike, you gotta wake up…" Colleen squeezed her right shoulder softly, her voice soothing and encouraging.

"No… where, I…" Michaela pulled instinctively against the contact, removing her head from her hands, realizing she'd fallen asleep at the kitchen table in the early hours of the morning.

"You been out here all night?" The young girl whispered, turning off the dull light from the lamp just in front of Michaela's right hand, idly beginning to close the textbooks scattered around the table.

"I guess I just… fell asleep…" Michaela pulled herself wearily into an upright position, her limbs stiff and sore from the tension-filled few hours of sleep.

"You go freshen up… I'll clean up out here…" Colleen gestured to the fresh pitcher of water beside the basin on the small table next to Michaela's chest of drawers across the room.

"No, I… you start breakfast…" Michaela watched the girl's eyes drop to the open textbook in her hands, her voice coming out much more desperately than she'd intended.

"All right…" Colleen picked up on the sharpness in her mother's voice immediately; she closed the book in her hands, and placed it gently back against the wooden table.

Michaela stood awkwardly, overwhelming tiredness pulling at her, her eyes stinging, her head throbbing. Quickly closing the half a dozen books around her, Michaela stacked them into a careful pile, her glance shifting subtly across to Colleen, who was collecting the necessary plates and glasses for breakfast, seemingly unaware of the trail of evidence Michaela had unwillingly fallen asleep around.

"You sure you ain't worried about Myra?" Colleen innocently enquired, placing the crockery on the corner of the table, her right hand moving forwards gesturing to the stack of medical journals and textbooks.

Michaela felt her heart jump, picking up the pile of books and carrying them to the edge of her bed, purely to avoid having to look her daughter in the eye as she lied to her.

"Yes… What, what had you planned for breakfast?" Michaela carefully began untangling her hair, crossing around the end of the bed to arrive at the pitcher of water, pouring it slowly into the basin.

"Was gonna do oatmeal and biscuits…" Colleen began stacking the wood into the stove, the gentle trickling of water the only audible sound in the small space for several moments.

"Fine," Michaela replied unemotionally, taking a breath and bringing a handful of water to her face, letting the coolness erase the confused memories from the previous night's dream.

Colleen watched silently as Michaela splashed the water against her skin, the young girl's eyes shifting between her mother and the assortment of obstetric textbooks stacked at the end of the bed. Her mouth open slightly, about to say something, however closed it again; It wasn't her place. And besides, it would only upset Michaela more if her suspicions were wrong. No, it wasn't her business.

**X.O.X**

"'Bout time I got rid a these things… itchin' something shocking…" Hank eagerly began removing his shirt, having just been instructed to sit on the edge of the examination table.

"Well, the stitches needed to stay in for seven to ten days, have you noticed any bleeding from the wound?" Michaela placed her left hand delicately on Hank's upper arm, helping him to lay down flat on the padded table, allowing her better access to the sutured bullet wound on the left side of his chest.

"No... nothin'… just been drivin' me mad these last few days… pretty impressive though… least I showed those filthy, good-for-nothin' robbers who was boss…" Hank nodded to himself, masculine pride oozing from every pore.

"Hank, you nearly died… I hardly think money was worth dying over…" Michaela carefully examined the small scar, opening the suture set beside her, to locate a pair of scissors and tweezers.

"Didn't know they were actually gonna shoot me, did I…" Hank rolled his eyes, wincing as she tugged lightly on the first suture. "'Sides… money's something I fight for…" Hank felt her hands leave his chest, taking the chance to gaze back up at the physician, the words slipping quietly from his lips. "I bet you fought…" Hank narrowed his eyes, watching the immediate distraction consume her. The pair remained in silence, Michaela carefully placing the removed stitch onto the fresh white gauze beside her suture set, not intending on responding to his whispered utterance.

Hank, very aware of the influence his words had had on her, realized the significance of not getting a verbal reaction.

"You didn't fight… did you…" He stated, watching her eyes focus deliberately on the removal of the next suture.

He let his head sink back against the padded examination table, however never shifting his gaze from her face, part of him amused at his revelation; he'd be popular at Jake's in a few hours, however, most of him was aware of a heaviness rising from his stomach. It was a feeling Hank had never been able to identify with a word, however a feeling he knew he didn't like. A feeling that brought out the worse in him, because it made him feel vulnerable. Although unable to articulate the emotion, Hank felt the snarl begin to spread across his lips. It was the same over-confident, mocking smile he always wore when he was trying desperately to shield his true feelings. Unfortunately for Michaela, Hank's strategy when confronted with his own insecurities, was to move the spotlight onto someone else's.

"Bet that wouldn't go well back home… ain't you 'ladies' supposed to defend your honor at all costs… something like that…" He chuckled lightly, tucking his hands under the back of his head, gazing up at the white-painted ceiling, his attention being drawn to the gentle twinges radiating from his chest, as each stitch was delicately removed.

"That mother a yours would certainly have a thing or two to say… last time she was here, Horace and I didn't have so much as a little differing of opinions, and she was lecturin' us about actin' all uncivilized, some such nonsense… You'd sure be able to tell her a thing or two about the real meanin' a the word, wouldn't ya… ahhh…" Hank unintentionally winced as he felt the scissors pinch his skin, pulling away automatically.

"Sorry," Michaela's voice was indescribably flat; her apology out of mere habit than any conscious decision.

"All right… I know better than to goad someone with a sharp implement against my skin…" Hank let his arms drop back against his side, as he noticed Michaela swallow and try desperately to steady her hands back over his chest, biting her lower lip in anguished concentration.

Their gazes alternated, Hank glimpsed at the perspiration forming on her brow, as Michaela looked tensely between her work and his face, each knowing that the other was watching them.

"… There…" Michaela's voice was hollow and strained, Hank not comprehending her statement until he heard the metallic instruments clink against the metal tray, his head darting instantly back towards her.

"Right… thanks…" He nodded uncomfortably, pulling himself into a sitting position and slowly slipping his left arm into his shirt sleeve.

"You'll need to… take it easy for a few weeks, though…" Michaela tried to study his expression, beginning to sense a hint of apology within his sullen, hidden eyes.

"Will do… ah… know I 'ppreciate ya savin' me and all…" He cleared his throat, reaching to place several coins on the edge of the table. Michaela refused to reply, and merely closed the lid of the suture set, with a simple nod of acknowledgement.

Hank rocked his head from side to side, as he paced thoughtfully towards the clinic door, a hand dug into his right pocket. As he was just about to reach his left hand for the door, Hank paused, turning back to the middle of the room, his left arm still extended, palm facing upwards.

"Listen… I… maybe I'm not the right person and all… but… ya gonna have to talk to someone, Michaela… it ain't just something you can… ah… forget about…" He saw her fists clench either side of the wooden instrument case. Hank lowered his head, realizing he'd said enough when he saw her knuckles whiten in tension.

"Seeya…" Was the final response uttered. Michaela remained frozen, her feet numb against the floor, until the soft click of the door closing, sent her fists slamming down against the padded table.

"I can't do this…" Michaela heard the words fall from her mouth, pounding her hands once against the table, her fury only increasing when she felt the moisture rush to her eyes.

"Stop it…" She knew why she was crying, and it only mad her angrier. This in turn made her more emotional, which fueled her anger in a vicious circle, the battle only ending when Michaela reached for the closest movable object; the polished wooden instrument case in-between her two clenched fists.

An exasperated, cheated screech immediately filled the room, quickly melded into the clattering of instruments against the floor as she sent the wooden case flying across the room into the corner behind her desk.

Michaela felt her breathing quicken, now occupied with the task of cleaning up the destruction several feet from her, this proving enough solace for the time being, allowing her to take control of the overwhelming emotions swirling around so powerfully inside her.

The tears trickled silently down her face.

**X.O.X**

**Tuesday, 22****nd**** August, 1869**

_**Four Days Later – 17 Weeks Gestation**_

**X.O.X**

"You just have another slice a that, remember… you're eatin' for two now…" Horace slid the freshly cut piece of apricot pie in front of Myra, who rolled her eyes, although quietly enjoying Horace's newfound over protectiveness.

"Ain't you gotta get back to the office… what if someone needs to send a telegram?" Myra chewed slowly on a mouthful of pastry, surprised at Horace's casual dismissal for his work responsibilities.

Both looked up as Jake and Dorothy appeared opposite them.

"Don't mind if we join you, do you? Just seemed like such a pleasant day for afternoon tea… and well… saw you over here, couldn't resist reiterating the congratulations!" Dorothy beamed, Jake remaining dignified whilst the women fussed between themselves for several moments.

"So, tell me… bit quick weren't it… come to think a it… the whole weddin' was a bit quick… elopin' like that and all. You sure you ain't had ulterior motives?" Jake chuckled lightly under his breath, watching the slightly offended horror creep across the father-to-be's face.

"Now, don't you go startin' up stuff like that Jake… you know Myra and I…" The tall, dark haired man trailed off, blushing obviously.

"Was only foolin' with ya…" Jake continued, as Grace made her way over to them to ensure the four townspeople were given fresh cups of coffee and offered afternoon tea.

"No, I'm fine… two's my limit…" Myra resisted Horace's encouragement of another slice of pie.

"Well I should hope so… weight can creep on without ya even seeing it when ya expectin'…" Grace muttered under her breath, turning and bitterly leaving the small group.

"So how far along a ya? Thought a any names yet?" Dorothy swamped her attention back on Myra, Horace wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Jake maintaining his expression of concealed ill ease.

"Well… we ain't quite sure a course… but Dr. Mike reckons must be at least nine or ten weeks by now, so musta been on our honeymoon…" Myra smiled coyly in Horace's direction, Jake clearing his throat; that was just too much information.

"Aw… well I think it's lovely… after all you've both waited so long to be together… so you'd be due… end of February, right?" Dorothy quickly carried out the calculations on her fingers, Myra squeezing Horace's hand and nodding slowly.

"Not quite sure… guess so… just never thought it'd all happen this fast… but… it's a blessing… so… just so long as the baby's healthy, that's all I'm worried about…" Myra's face widened into an excited grin. Dorothy met Myra's joy, with a tender squeeze of her hands, looking up slightly, as she noticed Sully passing nearby. He remained quiet, however had been observing the small party from a distance, on his way to Robert's E's next-door.

**X.O.X**

"Afternoon… need any help there?" Sully watched Robert E. struggling to balance the wagon wheel as he was re-ironing it.

"Thanks… been keepin' to yourself these last few weeks? Ain't seen ya 'round town much," the Blacksmith replied, as the two men worked to finish the task before them, their unspoken bond of friendship allowed the work to be carried out effortlessly.

"Truth is, ain't been 'round town much…" Sully gazed off into the distance, knowing that for Robert E. to have commented, his absence must have been quite conspicuous.

"'Round the homestead then?" Robert E. narrowed his eyes, noticing the slightly lost expression cross Sully's face.

"Yeah, most days… here and there… children always like havin' someone to play catch with… help 'em with stuff… Brian's been workin' awful hard rehearsin' for the play… been tryin' to give him some pointers about how to be nice to women… dunno if it's really sinking in though… you know what boys a like at that age…" Sully helped Robert E. refit the wheel to the wagon, the pair dusting their hands in satisfaction.

"Yeah… guess I do…" Robert E. drifted off, deep in thought, both men realizing what he was referring to.

They exchanged a subtle glance of understanding, Robert E. changing the subject immediately.

"'Fraid this whole thing with Myra's got Grace mighty down at the moment… poor woman's convinced she ain't never gonna have a baby a her own. Try to keep sayin' it ain't time yet… that when God's ready… but… ya know what women can be like when they put their minds to something…" Robert E. looked across at Sully, a knowing smile creeping across his face.

"Sure do… seems like… one minute I think I'm gettin' somewhere with Michaela, then… I dunno… goin' backwards…" Sully shook his head, Robert E. nodded and rested his back against the fence, his arms folded across his chest.

"Seems like whatever we say it's wrong thing, don't it? Just last night, mentioned to Grace, maybe she oughta go see Dr. Mike… see if there's anything wrong or somethin', well that just set her off even worse… ain't spoken a single word to me since… Now, maybe I shoulda kept my mouth shut… was only tryin' to help…" Robert E. idly began dusting the front of his shirt off, Sully dropping his head and resting a hand on Robert E's shoulder.

"I ain't claiming to be an expert on the subject… but what with Abigail and now Michaela… learnt there are just some things we men ain't allowed to talk about… S'ppose it's like something they feel is their job… I dunno… like if we were havin' trouble providin' food and a home for 'em… we'd feel we were lettin' 'em down, right?" Sully turned to glance at his friend, Robert E. nodding without hesitation.

"Well, guess, it's the same for Grace. Feels like it's her responsibility to raise a family for you both… that ain't happening… and now with Myra… she's, well, feelin' jealous. Coz it seemed so easy for her… and you and Grace been findin' it tougher." Sully waited until Robert E. had absorbed his words, the Blacksmith's stance shifting somewhat.

"Guess you're right… just gotta be patient. Maybe she'll go see Dr. Mike on her own… she's always been like that though… best if I don't push her… she'll sort matters when she's good and ready." Robert E. bent down, watching as Wolf amused himself in sniffing at his shoe, responding affectionately to the rub behind the ears.

"Yeah… just wish Michaela'd talk to me… seems like one minute we're fine, next she won't even look at me… Good luck though… Come on boy…" Sully patted his thigh, Wolf obeying and following behind him immediately.

"Thanks, Sully…" Robert E. smiled softly, returning to the wagon he was working on.

**X.O.X**

**Saturday, 26****th**** August, 1869**

_**Four Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"I'll take care of the dishes, Colleen… don't you and Brian have homework?" Michaela wearily got to her feet, as Colleen took a step away from the basin of hot soapy water.

"Well… yeah… just thought you were lookin' tired… thought ya might wanna spend some time on ya own or somethin'…" The young girl gave Michaela the opportunity to back out of the chore once again.

"No… it's fine… go outside with your brother…" Michaela reassured, her tone quickly moving from request to order.

"I…" Colleen frowned slightly, seeing the strung-out expression sweep across Michaela's face, knowing when it was time to make her presence scarce. "I… I'll see if Matthew needs help with the firewood…" She dried her hands on her apron, lowering her gaze, as she smartly paced through the back door.

"Thought it was your turn to do the dishes?" Matthew exited the barn, his arms wrapped around the freshly chopped wood.

"Dr. Mike told me to come out here… think she just wants to be alone for a bit…" Colleen brushed Matthew's arm, the young man shrugging and dropping the wood into a neat pile beside the barn.

"You know she didn't eat any supper, don't ya?" Matthew observed, his voice quiet and concerned.

"Well… yeah… don't think we were meant to notice, though…" Colleen clasped her hands behind her back, the pair gazing from the homestead, back to each other, aware of the fading light around them.

"Maybe… maybe we just needa give her a bit a space…" Matthew ventured, Colleen cutting him off sharply.

"But I'm worried about her… she ain't been eatin'… and Brian let it slip yesterday she's been stayin' up till all hours…" Colleen glanced across the yard, her younger brother contently throwing a ball around for Pup.

"Brian… how does he know…?" Matthew narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Well, you know what he's like… thinks everything around this place is his business all of a sudden…" Colleen and Matthew crossed the darkening garden both resting against the railing of the front porch as Brian continued tossing his baseball for the young wolf.

"Yeah… been gettin' all needy again, hasn't he? Thought we'd seen the last a that…" Matthew shook his head, idly tapping a stick against the uneven ground as Colleen's voice dropped, her reply somewhat dreamlike.

"So did I… different though… I dunno…" Colleen shrugged, the pair turning when they heard the sound of a plate smashing from inside the homestead.

"Dr. Mike?" Matthew was the first to arrive back inside, pausing between the front door and the table as he took in the scene before him, Colleen running up behind him, also surveying the source of the noise.

"Ma?" She frowned, the young girl's eyes dropping, the three remaining in utter silence.

Michaela remained completely paralyzed knelt on the floor, the remnants of a dinner plate in pieces only inches from her knees. She held her right hand against her skirt, blood slowly soaking into the blue material, her expression cold and lifeless, her eyes deflected downwards, oblivious to the children's presence.

"I'll… clean up…" Matthew nervously took a step forwards, beginning to carefully collect the larger fragments of the smashed plate, Michaela remaining numb to his movement around her.

"Ma?" Colleen approached her mother's side tentatively, placing her left hand on Michaela's right shoulder.

"Let's see…" Colleen reached for Michaela's right arm, surprised when she offered no resistance to her touch. Turning her hand over, the young girl inspected the wound, letting Michaela's hand fall heavily back against her thigh.

"It's all right, Ma… just a small cut…" Colleen watched as Matthew returned, having thrown the first handful of china shards away, the young girl, at a loss for what to say.

"Ma… only a plate…" Matthew offered in consolation, focusing his attention back on finishing collecting the remaining fragments and taking them outside.

Colleen felt her left hand move against Michaela's shoulder, rubbing her back comfortingly in an attempt to at least break her out of this stunned acquired silence.

"Ma? It's all right…" Colleen leant closer, her other arm reaching across to Michaela's left shoulder, Matthew having just left the room when Colleen heard the first sound of response; a gasped breath, followed by muffled sobs, Michaela leaning forward to bury her head in the girl's shoulder.

"It's all right, Ma… it's all right…" Colleen's eyes darted around the room awkwardly, having no choice but to receive the embrace, locking her arms around Michaela's back as she continued to cry; tears flowing uninhibitedly from her eyes. Colleen remained silent as she felt Michaela's small frame heave with each desperate sob.

Matthew took a step back inside the homestead, when he heard the unmistakable cries. Sliding his feet discreetly along the floorboards, he arrived by the kitchen table, Colleen looking up awkwardly to meet his eyes.

The siblings remained quiet; a meaningful supportive understanding passing between them, Matthew's mouth twitching in pained uselessness as he watched Michaela's raw display of distress play out before his eyes. There was nothing he could do.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

"Colleen… my pajamas ain't here… you take 'em?" Brian turned his pillow upside down, tossing it to the end of the bed, as Colleen closed the white curtain separating their beds from the rest of the homestead.

"Brian… why would I take your pajamas? They're probably just under the blankets…" Colleen sighed tiredly, having more on her mind than her brother's sleeping attire.

The young girl immediately unfolded her nightdress, and began to unbutton her floral blouse, as Brian continued to rearrange his quilt and sheets, pulling them all into a jumbled mess searching disorderly for his pale yellow sleepwear.

"Nup, they ain't…" He continued tangling the blankets together, Colleen busying herself with slipping her nightdress over her head, discreetly unbuttoning and removing her chemise, followed by her skirt and the remainder of her undergarments.

"Brian… they're right…" She huffed loudly, spotting the unmistakable yellow item buried between the sheet and blanket, pulling it out and shoving it into her brother's arms.

"Thanks…" He hung his head, quickly pulling off the rest of his clothing as Colleen grabbed her dressing gown and wrapped it around her shoulders, reaching for the handle of the back door.

"Where ya goin'?" Brian frowned, jumping awkwardly around with one leg still caught in his trousers.

"Mind ya own business, nosey… outside for a few minutes… stay here…" Colleen rolled her eyes, tightening the dressing gown around her chest as she stepped out into the cool night air, closing the door softly behind her.

Brian struggled with his trousers for several more moments, eventually donning his pajamas and preparing for bed. About to push through the white curtain, he quickly paused, remembering he hadn't checked to see if it was all right for him to come back into the room.

His mouth poised ready to utter the single questioning word, Brian slipped his head between the curtain and the wall, a millisecond passing, allowing him just enough time to take in Michaela's actions, his jaw closing, and his eyes narrowing.

Brian felt the nervousness build across his chest, knowing what he was doing was wrong, but was unable to fight the curiosity which kept his eyes captivated, secretly hidden in the several inches between the wall and the curtain. From his covert spot, he was just able to see across to Michaela's bedside, although quite confident she would never be able to detect his presence.

He frowned, however nonetheless continued to watch as she emerged from her dressing area, looking up to see the children's curtain still closed. Gingerly moving her right hand to her nightgown, Michaela turned back towards the mirror several feet away, before smoothing out the dull white fabric of the thin garment over her stomach, adjusting her posture every few moments.

Her eyes shifted several times from the mirror and then downwards, Michaela's disenchantment was obvious. Her full skirts and loose blouses made for easy concealment of her condition, whereas in the flimsiness of her nightdress, Michaela could see her lower abdomen protruding several inches further than it had the last time she'd dared to check only a week ago.

Letting her arms drop to her sides, Michaela glanced back up at herself in the mirror. Looking herself up and down a final time, she felt her shoulders drop, aware of how tired she felt. She'd deliberately been denying herself both sleep and food, in the hope that she might miscarry, however, despite the occasional dizziness and overall weakness, Michaela had had no other warning signs that she was overdoing it.

The guilt at her thinking was disturbing enough. Part of her knew exactly what was going on inside of her, the other refused to believe it. But as she stood motionless, clad in only her nightdress, Michaela felt reality hit her, like an immovable weight crushing her from the shoulders down.

Brian lowered his head slightly, his left ear brushing lightly against the wooden wall of the homestead, jumping across towards his bed as he heard the door open behind him.

"Said Goodnight to Ma, yet?" she asked, as Brian pushed his feet underneath the disarray of sheets and blankets, as Colleen opened the curtain partitioning their room from the rest of the homestead, a small smile gracing her lips as she met eyes with Michaela, who had just finished buttoning her dressing gown, and was now busy turning down her bed for the night.

Brian shrugged, and deflected his eyes from his sister. He busied himself retrieving his pillow, which was still entwined in the blankets, and placed it behind him.

"Well… go on…" Colleen slowly unbuttoned her dressing gown as Brian reluctantly pulled himself up from his bed, crossing the room to kiss Michaela goodnight.

"Goodnight, sweetheart…" She brushed the hair back from his face, kissing the top of the boy's head, as he quietly retreated to his bed.

"Night, Dr. Mike…" Colleen wrapped an arm around Michaela's back, kissing her sweetly on the cheek, noticing the tiredness hidden deep within her eyes.

"I'll see you in the morning…" She pulled from Colleen's gaze, noticing that the young girl had continued to focus her attention on her mother's pale face and drained expression longer than she needed to.

"Dr. Mike… I… Matthew and I…" She fidgeted with her fingers in front of her, and watched silently for several moments as Michaela dimmed the lamp above her bed, her actions slowed, to avoid having to turn back to the young girl.

"Matthew and I been… worried… wanna know if there's anything…" Colleen narrowed her eyes, as Michaela drew a sharp breath, the stern look on her face, almost enough to scare Colleen from continuing.

"Is… anything… wrong? You…" Colleen raised her right arm out slightly, her hand tilted sideways in an awkward gesture.

"No. Nothing… nothing's wrong…" Michaela idly grabbed the pillow from her bed, smoothing and ruffling it carefully between her hands, deliberately refusing to meet Colleen's eyes.

"Just you've seemed real worried, uptight… Is there something wrong with Myra? Something you can't tell her?" Colleen felt a revelation dawning on her. Maybe that was it. Something was wrong with Myra, and Michaela was concerned about how to help her.

"Myra?" Michaela repeated dully, taking longer than usual to reach Colleen's deduction. "Oh… no… no, she's fine…" Michaela cleared her throat, and reluctantly placed the pillow back carefully on her bed, looking around for another distraction.

"Ma… if… something was troublin' ya… ya'd say… right? Ya know you're not alone…" Colleen felt awkward having to be so direct and assertive, however felt compelled to make it clear where she was coming from. From her talk with Matthew only minutes earlier, she knew she had to say something. As much as she didn't want to remind Michaela of the trauma she'd endured, Michaela's recent emotional outbursts told Colleen that acting like nothing had happened was not going to work for much longer.

"I… I know that… but you needn't worry… Everything's going to be fine, Colleen…" Michaela felt her voice crack slightly on the second half of her reply, quickly reaching forward to embrace the girl in a warm hug, more to add weight to her words, than because she desired the physical contact.

"All right, Ma…" Colleen's reply was trusting, yet dubious. There was another concern buried inside the young girl's attentive mind; one that she still daren't vocalize, but that she feared may have to be addressed… sooner or later...

**X.O.X**

**Sunday, 27****th**** August, 1869**

_**One Day Later – 18 Weeks Gestation**_

**X.O.X**

"Now we turn to Ecclesiastes, chapter eleven…" the Reverend, glanced around at the congregation, and then proceeded to open his bible clearing his throat and reading the first passage.

"Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days. Give a portion to seven, and also to eight; for thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the earth." Timothy saw the younger children's face's tense, not having followed his liturgy, until he spoke the word 'evil', with a touch of darkness to his tone.

Brian looked down and crossed his legs at the ankles, feeling thoroughly bored by this point. His fingers interlocked in his lap, the young boy moved them to his brown jacket, idly pulling at the loose thread, not satisfied until the top button pulled away from the material.

"Ma," he whispered, handing her the single button. Michaela pressed her finger to her lips, and rolled her eyes, before slipping the small object into her purse, her attention going back to the Reverend who stood behind the wooden lectern at the front of the room.

"If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon the earth: and if the tree fall toward the south, or toward the north, in the place where the tree falleth, there it shall be. He that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap." Colleen frowned, trying to follow the awkward words, before turning to find Becky, who was sitting with her family across the room. The two girls smiled brief 'hellos', before Colleen brought her head back to the front, managing to catch up with the Reverend's continuing sermon.

"As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all." Myra reached gently for her husband's hand, squeezing it lovingly, as Horace smiled back at her in understanding. Moving his gaze from his new wife, the telegraph operator looked up to see Robert E., an arm around the back of the bench, whereupon his hand rested lightly on Grace's shoulder, nodding back at him, both men thinking of their wives.

"In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand: for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good. Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun." Michaela was unaware her eyes had dropped closed, until she felt Colleen's elbow nudge her arm. Quickly drawing a tired breath, and flashing a grateful nod in the girl's direction, Michaela turned to watch Brian begin swaying his legs backwards and forwards against the bench in front of him.

"Brian…" she reprimanded, keeping her voice low, surprised when he chose to ignore her. Michaela felt her chest drop, she was too tired and frustrated in that moment to have the energy to follow through with the discipline.

**X.O.X**

"Brian Cooper…" Michaela followed behind Colleen and Matthew, as they slowly moved towards the back of the church.

"I'm sorry, Ma… was just really… really boring…" He hung his head, continuing by her side.

"That is no excuse… and you know it. You will help Matthew in the barn after school next week…" Michaela stated, Brian about to protest, when the Reverend turned to address them.

"Dr. Mike… Brian…" He smiled, Brian slipping quickly through the door, spying Steven out in the meadow with his family.

"Seeya, Ma…" Michaela attempted to reach for the boy's shoulder, however missing by several inches, again, lacking the energy to call him back.

"He's supposed to be reflecting on his appalling behavior earlier, not enjoying playing with friends…" She shook her head in apology. The Reverend nodded with a slight chuckle, quickly remembering a pressing concern.

"Oh, Dr. Mike… I didn't see the Harrison's in church, today… and I know Mr. Harrison's not been feelin' too well these last few weeks…" Michaela cut him off, with a reassuring, yet weary smile.

"That's, quite all right, Reverend… I'll ride out there after lunch… He was recovering from a nasty catarrh last week… might have taken a turn for the worst…" Michaela speculated, watching Colleen and Matthew lay out the picnic rug in a warm clearing.

"Thank-you, Dr. Mike… are you feelin' all right?" Timothy brushed her forearm lightly, the pair stepping through the door, to arrive outside of the porch of the church.

"Work's… ah… been busy… and I hear you've been working quite hard yourself. The children are always coming home with stories… how's the rehearsing going?" Michaela enquired, deliberately detracting him from further interrogations into her health.

"Oh… oh… excellent… Brian's certainly enjoying himself, I think… and Olive's just finished all the costumes… Some of the townsmen are going to be helping build the stage this week, we'll have the dress rehearsal next Saturday, and the play Sunday afternoon… to follow with a dinner at Grace's…" Timothy's excitement was obvious, Michaela forcing herself to pay attention to his words, however finding it difficult to stop her mind drifting these last few weeks.

"Sounds like it should prove a huge success…" Michaela smiled once again, before turning and descending the steps from the church, joining the children and Ingrid for lunch.

**X.O.X**

"Flash's all ready, Dr. Mike…" Matthew popped his head around the front door of the homestead, Michaela searching for her hat and gloves in the chest of drawers, turning around briefly to acknowledge him.

"Thank-you, Matthew," she replied, Sully appeared in the doorway, as the young man went back to his chores in the barn.

"Afternoon… what's going on?" He'd only just arrived at the homestead, seeing Matthew lead the horse out from the barn, securing her to the railings of the front porch.

"Need to go out to check on a patient… do you mind staying with the children?" Michaela frowned, eventually spying the tan gloves scrunched up in a corner of the third draw. "Ah…" She muttered in satisfaction, her brow wrinkling as she tried to remember the other item she was looking for.

"Don't mind… I can come with ya if you'd like though…" He slid his feet across the floorboards, perching on the edge of her bed, somewhat amused at the look of utter confusion that had spread across Michaela's face.

"No… think the children were counting on a game of baseball… Matthew's just put the wagon away anyway…" Michaela crossed her arms angrily, she knew there was something else she was looking for; she was also acutely aware of why she couldn't remember.

"Something… ah, troublin' ya?" Sully smiled coyly, having absolutely no way of knowing the level of frustration and exhaustion Michaela was concealing.

"No," she groused back quickly, crossing the room to pick up her medical bag from the table, Sully getting to his feet and arriving by her side, blocking her path to the door.

"Only take a few minutes for me to harness up Bear again…" He took a step closer towards her; Michaela was now completely trapped between the table and Sully's presence.

"Sully… I'll only be a couple of hours… and then… we can have supper…" She felt his hand on her right upper arm, aware of her shoulders rising and falling as she looked up into his soft blue eyes.

"Fine…" He nodded, the smile not dropping from his face, despite his disappointment.

Michaela drew an awkward breath, realizing that the fact that he wasn't moving meant she'd either have to deliberately push past him, or… her plan of action was quickly interrupted when she felt his fingers brush over the fine wisps of hair around her right ear.

The mere sensation of his fingers against her skin caused a lump to form in her throat. Michaela knew whenever he was this close to her, that she needed him. She felt her heart ache with yearning to collapse against his shoulder and weep. Just this thought was enough to cause the moisture to collect in her eyes.

"Just wanted to spend some time with ya…" He dropped his left hand to her right shoulder, his fingers kneading soothingly against her tense muscles.

"Well… we could go for a walk after supper…" Michaela suggested, locking her left hand with his right, all her energy being spent in grappling between nervous excitement at the physical contact, and helpless desire to bury her head against his chest.

"Can't wait…" He dropped his head, eyebrows moving ever so slightly as he gauged her reaction, before bringing his lips to her cheek.

The heaviness in her chest pinnacled at that moment, Michaela giving in and letting herself fall into his arms, her head nestling on his shoulder as she once again felt his arms wrap firmly around her back.

"You sure you're all right?" Sully frowned, hearing the soft sigh escape her lips as she clung to his chest, emotional turmoil fuelling the fantasy that if she just held onto him tight enough, somehow he could make all her problems go away.

"I... I'm sorry…" Michaela whispered, realizing she had to remove herself from the security of his arms; knowing she had other matters to attend to.

"Michaela?" He spoke slowly, as he felt her pull away from him.

"Have fun with the children…" She dropped her head, her medical bag in her right hand as she strode through the front door and out onto the porch.

Matthew, Colleen and Brian gathered in the yard, as Michaela mounted Flash and pushed the horse into a hurried trot before turning back to glance at the children waving her off.

Brian tossed the baseball in his hands several times, noticing as his older brother and sister quickly returned to the barn and laundry respectively. The young boy looked down at the Pup by his side, startled when Sully rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Sully… how long's Ma gonna be?" He continued rotating the material ball in his hands, mild apprehension at her departure beginning to resurface.

"Only a few hours… come on… wanna play?" Sully playfully grabbed the ball from him, the young boy tilting his head, still deep in thought.

"You… you know how you and Ma are courtin' again…" Brian chewed on the inside of his left cheek, being very careful to phrase his question so as not to incriminate himself.

"What about it?" Sully was detracted, tossing the ball higher and higher into the air, slightly juvenile pride displaying on his face as he managed to catch it time after time.

"You… wouldn't worry if Ma got fat or nothin', would ya?" Brian was still trying to work through the events from the night before.

"Brian, don't be silly… come on… I've been practicin'… what'd you do with your bat?" Sully tapped the boy's shoulder encouragingly, deliberately trying to distract him from Michaela's absence.

"Think… think it's in the barn…" The boy ran off quickly, Sully shaking his head, fascinated at children's ability to move from one subject to the next.

Sully, on the other hand, was beginning to absorb himself in other concerns… His mind continued to play over Michaela's final words, each time slower and with more precision.

_What was she apologizing for? They'd settled that issue weeks ago._


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

"If there's no improvement by the end of the week, you'll need to bring him into the Clinic…" Michaela handed Mrs. Harrison the small envelope of herbs.

"Mix a spoonful in with a cup of boiling water… to make a tea. Try and have him drink at least three cups a day…" Mrs. Harrison took the package carefully, the young blond woman nodding gratefully.

"Thank-you so much, Dr. Mike… just with James so poorly, and all the young ones… didn't seem right leavin' him out here all alone… hope the Reverend weren't too worried…" Victoria adjusted the toddler in her arms, four-year old Louise clutching at her skirt and sucking her thumb curiously.

"No… he just reminded me that your husband had been unwell… and with you all not in church… well, I thought it was best to be sure…" Michaela clasped her black bag tighter in her right hand, nodding in conclusion.

"Ma… Ma, ya gotta come… Peter and Henry are fightin' over who's turn it is to go ridin' tomorrow… won't let up…" The eldest Harrison child scurried frantically into the homestead through the back door, not realizing they had company.

"I'll soon sort this… neither of them will be… oh… I'm sorry... Louise, sweetheart, go take Dr. Mike outside, all right?" Victoria pushed the small girl forwards slightly, the blond-haired child shrugging her shoulders and reaching for Michaela's hand obligingly.

"Doc Mike, you gotta go to school heaps long to be a doc?" She looked up thoughtfully, the pair opening the front door of the homestead and arriving onto the long verandah, which extended down a good seven yards to where Flash was secured.

"Yes, Louise, I'm afraid you do…" Michaela sighed, starting to feel surrounded by children, and longing for a moment of solitude.

"But then you get to know all the special medicines and how to make people all better, right?" The girl continued, her small steps becoming slightly frustrating to the fatigued physician.

"Not always…" Michaela sighed, having no choice but to slow her walking to match the young girl's.

"But you fixed my arm up, like nothin' ever happened…" She flexed her left arm up and down triumphantly. Michaela nodded in feigned interest.

"Broken arms are easy to fix, Louise…" Michaela swung her long plait back over her left shoulder, letting the girl's hand drop from hers as they arrived by the horse's side. Michaela untied her and took the reins in her hands as the girl replied a final time.

"You're a good doc, that's why…" Louise remained on the porch as Michaela swung her bag onto the pommel of Flash's saddle, mounting the horse quickly, and smiling briefly to the girl waving farewell from the edge of the porch.

"Bye, Doc Mike!" She smiled, as Michaela turned and led Flash back along the dusty road.

**X.O.X**

"Run, Brian!" Colleen chuckled, holding the bat in her hands as Brian desperately scooted towards home plate, Matthew deliberately throwing the ball crookedly towards Sully.

"Yay! Made it!" The young boy caught his breath, oblivious to the 'assistance' he'd received form his older brother.

"Good for you… all right, I'm ready…" Colleen dug her feet into the loose ground, swinging the bat several times as Sully retrieved the ball and took his place ready to begin the pitch.

"Right… keep your eye on the ball…" He encouraged, taking several steps backwards and launching into a quick run towards her.

**X.O.X**

"Run, Flash… come on girl…" Michaela pushed the horse into a desperate canter, feeling her feet tingle in the stirrups, knowing she was riding too fast, knowing also that time was slipping away.

Michaela studied the road ahead of her, knowing that she'd have to keep going for hours on such a smooth surface for the riding to have any impact. She spotted trees in the distance, only a hundred or so yards away, and pulled Flash to the left slightly, never letting the fierceness of her riding abate.

"Please… Flash…" Michaela knew the horse was straining, as was she. She knew she must keep going. Sheer desperation was pushing her onwards, proving enough to fight the aching in her thighs and the pounding of her weight against the hard saddle.

**X.O.X**

"There ya go… run… run!" Matthew clapped and cheered loudly, when, on her third attempt, Colleen had managed to actually make contact with the ball, sending it flying back into a pile of shrubs.

"Wolf… fetch, boy!" Sully commanded, Brian chuckling, when he realized Sully was cheating slightly.

"Aww, no fair…" Brian condemned, relaxing when he realized Colleen had made it safely to the first base.

"Good boy…" Sully stroked the Wolf's head, having retrieved the ball in a matter of seconds, bringing it loyally to his master's feet.

"Matthew… you're up…" Sully rubbed the slightly dirt-stained ball against his buckskins, as Matthew adjusted the wooden bat until it was held snugly between his two hands.

"Right… get ready…" Sully teased, the older men quickly understanding that this fun, childish game was taking on a new level of professionalism.

**X.O.X**

Michaela felt the perspiration streaming down her forehead, knowing however, she'd pushed them both too far to give up now. They'd traveled several miles into the thickly tree-lined forest, Flash's movement becoming more erratic as the ground became more uneven under her shoes.

"Go on, Flash…" Michaela kicked her heels firmly against the horse's sides, noticing a fallen log several yards away, remembering just how skilled Flash was at jumping.

The horse obediently responded, pushing onwards into a faster canter, before rearing back slightly to take the jump, Michaela's fingers grasping the front of the saddle as she felt the horse pull away from the ground underneath her.

She landed back hard in the saddle, Flash continuing forwards, as Michaela still struggled for breath. About to allow the horse to slow, she squinted into the afternoon sun to see a small creek in the distance, and instead of pulling back on the reins, Michaela dug her heals in firmer, aware of nothing apart from the pounding up and down against the horse's jolted movements.

**X.O.X**

"Right… gonna get you back for that one… you ain't seen nothin' yet!" Matthew pushed his left hand back through his hair, tossing the ball several times, as Sully raised an eyebrow in mocking fear.

"Oh… please… don't hurt me…" He let his voice crack slightly, Brian doubling over in hysterics.

"Ya sound like a girl… Colleen… Sully sounded like you…" Brian giggle. She pushed on his shoulder, the slightly uncontrolled child losing his balance and dropping to the dirt, Sully rolled his eyes. He looked down to adjust his feet over the home plate, swinging the bat several times as Matthew took a long run up.

"You're gonna regret all those curve balls, ya know…" The young man smirked, Sully shaking his long hair out in masculine over-confidence.

"Remember Matthew, you actually gotta get the ball within three feet of me, for it to count…" Sully teased, Brian managing to pick himself up and resume his position on the third base.

**X.O.X**

"Just… one more… go…" Michaela's voice was hoarse and her mouth dry, but still she pushed the horse onwards.

The distance between them and the small river decreased, Michaela frowning when she saw the sizable rocks which lay in their path, just before the river.

"You can do it… Flash…" Michaela encouraged once again, although her voice was so ragged she could barely hear it. Flash was weakening, her head lifting spontaneously every few seconds and her usually evenly-paced stride becoming more unsteady.

"Please… I'm sorry girl… please…" Michaela felt her head drop backwards, exhaustion and desperation finally culminating in pleading tears that streamed from her eyes. In that moment, she felt guiltier for what she was doing to the horse, than for what she was trying to do to herself.

Flash, as if able to comprehend her anguished tone, sped up slightly, Michaela preparing herself once again, as the horse reared up, her front feet leaving the ground as she successfully cleared the pile of rocks and soared higher into the air.

Michaela sensed the wind rushing through her tangled hair, as she adjusted her seat quickly, leaning forwards, to prepare for the hard landing. She looked to her right for a split second, seeing the sun glisten against the calm water below her, before she was aware of Flash sharply twisting to the left, barely having time to brace herself as she felt her center of gravity shift.

"Flash… no... _no_…" Michaela pleaded, her encouragement was to no avail.

She felt herself falling, eyes squinting closed, as she braced against the inevitable landing. Having no control over her angle of impact with the shallow water, Michaela felt the sharp pain in her left shoulder, moving downwards instantly to her left hip as she determined she'd landed sideways, Flash's heavy weight crushing her lower leg momentarily.

Michaela felt the cool water soaking into her clothes, as she realized her left foot was still caught in the stirrup. Flash struggled primitively against her, attempting to recover from the fall.

"Flash… stop…" Michaela heard the words leave her lips, automatically condemning herself for even bothering. Continuing to focus all her attention on prizing her foot free, she moaned loudly against the pain, as her ankle was continually twisted between her leg and the moving horse.

"Please… please just… _ah_…!" She felt the cool water surround her left leg, deducing that she'd managed to free herself from the distressed creature.

Remaining very still, combating the blinding pain from her ankle with the seeping of the water through her many layers of clothing, Michaela clenched her jaw tightly, knowing the pain would pass. This rationale, however, did not prevent the tears from continuing to pour from her eyes.

"Damn it!" She smashed her hand against the soft, sandy bottom of the creek bed, her breathing beginning to slow as the sharp stabbing pain in her left ankle slowly eased into a more tolerable throb.

In those seconds of agony, however, Michaela hadn't noticed the horse disappear in terror through the forest. It wasn't until she pulled herself from the sideways position she'd landed in, that Michaela realized she was alone.

The water was only a foot or so deep, however enough to have drenched her. Michaela took several unsettled breaths, trying to determine how she was going to at least get out of the river. Turning around, she very awkwardly managed to pull and crawl her way back onto the dry ground, deciding to remain sitting until the pain in her ankle had subsided enough to attempt being walked on.

**X.O.X**

"Aww… no fair… Sully… no fair!" Brian struggled as Sully hid the ball behind his back, Colleen sliding into home plate, the two aforementioned participants being declared the winners.

"Only a game, Brian… settle down…" Matthew teased, pacing around the yard to pick up the flour sacks they'd used as bases, returning them to the barn.

"So, what now, then?" The young boy crossed his arms, his attention span not lasting for more than several minutes, Sully looking pleadingly to Colleen for help.

"We could… bake some cookies? Chocolate chip ones… your favorite…" She giggled, knowing Brian would be up for that in an instant.

"Great… Sully… you can help… you can mix… the…" Brian was halfway between the middle of the yard and the back door when he heard the sound of an approaching horse.

Matthew emerged from the barn just as Colleen, Brian and Sully raced across the yard, Flash's unmistakable form trotting down the familiar path before stopping several feet in front of them.

"Ma… Ma…Ma's horse… Sully… Ma…" Colleen reached for Brian's flailing arms, the young boy clutching to her chest, his breathing becoming gasped and high in his chest.

"Brian… calm down…" she scolded, although hardly able to blame him.

"But… Ma's Ma… Sully you gotta… Ma… Ma…" He repeated, his voice tightening and ascending in pitch as his face paled.

"Brian!" Colleen brought her hand to his face, slapping him across the left cheek just firmly enough to calm him down, allowing him to take a breath.

"I'll get Scout, Colleen, you stay with Brian…" Matthew was about to dash back towards the barn, Sully resting a hand firmly on his shoulder to stop him.

"No. I'll go… Colleen, get a shirt or something so Wolf can get a scent… Boy… here boy!" Sully looked around quickly for the animal, Brian attached immediately to his waist as Colleen ran inside without so much as a word.

"I'm going with ya…" Matthew narrowed his eyes momentarily, before dashing back into the barn and saddling Scout.

"Sully… promise… promise you won't let nothin' bad happen to her again… promise…" Brian pulled frantically on his beads, terrified tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Brian… I…" Sully looked hopelessly between Matthew and Brian, realizing he couldn't promise the child something he really had no control over. He'd already let them all down once, he wasn't about to break his word again.

"Here…" Colleen thrust the salmon blouse into Sully's hand, the Wolf sniffing in interest. Brian nested quickly by his sister's side, his fingers locking tightly to the waistband of her skirt.

"Sully…" The young boy's voice was weak, his chin quivering as tears fell from his eyes.

"Hush, Brian," Colleen ran her fingers through his golden hair, trying to be as comforting as she could, however anxiety pounding in her chest.

"What ya waiting for…" Matthew yelled gruffly, walking Scout out from the barn.

Sully looked between each of the children, before he quickly mounted Flash, Wolf whimpering, eager to get going.

"Come on… be gettin' dark in a few hours…" Matthew called, passing Sully quickly, encouraging Scout into a trot. Sully frowned, somewhat confused at the aggressiveness in the young man's voice, before pushing the exhausted horse into a rugged gallop, the Wolf staying several yards ahead guiding them back along the dirt road.

"Ssh… Brian… it will be all right…" Colleen knelt down to wipe his tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand, her gesture more out of empathy than to actually clean his face.

"You said that before," He pushed her hand away violently, before storming back into the homestead.

Colleen dropped her head, idly running her finger tips against the sides of her skirt, praying everything was going to be all right. She waited until the Sully and Matthew had vanished from view, before smoothing out her skirt, and turning to head back inside.

**X.O.X**

Michaela gazed at the trickle of water dripping steadily from the end of her hair, which hung messily over her shoulders, small muddy puddles forming where the water mixed with the dirt of the riverbank around her. Michaela wrapped her hands tighter around her legs, her head perched awkwardly on her knees, her breathing having slowed.

Michaela realized she'd stopped crying several minutes ago, but remained still, aware of the heaviness of her saturated clothing as it clung to her, gradually making her feel colder and colder.

Sniffling the remnants of tears and water from her nose, Michaela had recovered from the shock of the fall enough to take note of her surroundings. As she slowly rotated her head around her right shoulder, she saw the denseness of the forest she'd ridden into, the sun barely visible through the tall, thick trees.

She pushed her legs from her chest, wincing slightly at the twinge coming from her left ankle, before determinedly pulling herself into a somewhat slouched stand, the weight of her water-soaked clothes not making movement any easier.

Teeth clenched, she managed to hobble several yards back from the creek, a collection of rocks forming the start of a mountain provided a drier location. Michaela carefully removed the weight from her injured leg, knowing it was only a superficial sprain. Wringing out the edges of her skirt, more for something to do than for any practical benefit, Michaela brought her elbows back to her knees, for the first time contemplating just how she was going to get back home. She knew the distance wasn't that far, only four or five miles, however, her ankle was still too swollen and sore to be able to weight bear.

Michaela pulled the two fine combs from her hair, shaking her long mane out, brushing through the tangles. She could hear faint bird calls, apart from that, only the gentle running of water along the creek. The solitude was refreshing though. Michaela savored the absence of distractions, of people, and allowed her mind to travel where it pleased. She no longer cared where her thoughts took her, knowing she would arrive back at the same troublesome reality; only this time, another evasive measure had failed.

With an uncomfortable frown, Michaela reached around to undo the single button of her pale lilac skirt, the clingy material loosening around her waist. She sighed heavily, her clothes fitting more snugly with each passing day. Who was she fooling; it was only a matter of a few weeks before someone would pluck up the courage and confront her about it. Within a month Michaela knew she'd have to start adjusting her clothing… this was hopeless…

She let her head drop downwards, her mouth tightening in an uncomfortable grimace. Eighteen weeks gestation… that child was now sixteen weeks old… Michaela knew each day was taking her further from the chance of miscarriage, and closer to the moment when this child's existence would be undeniable.

"I can't do this…" Michaela heard the soft utterance pass from her lips, reality reminding her that the choice had, once again, been taken out of her hands.

**X.O.X**

"Harrison's property is this way…" Matthew reasoned, steering Scout towards the left fork that had appeared in the road in front of them.

"Wolf's sayin' she's this way… he'd know… come on…" Sully insisted, the pair not having spoken a single word to one another for a good ten minutes or so.

"Be this way… somewhere near the Harrison's…" Matthew's voice was stronger, beginning to move the horse forwards.

"Matthew… Wolf's got a scent… trust me…" Sully reassured, Wolf's light whining increasing in volume as a display of his eagerness.

"Tried that once before… look what happened…" Matthew set his jaw firmly, squeezing Scout's frame slightly, the well-trained horse pushing forwards into a trot.

"Matthew… Matthew!" Sully called, shaking his head as the young man continued along the pathway to the left, away from the forest Sully could see appearing in the distance to his right.

"Come on boy," he turned his attention back to the task at hand, Wolf barking in response and running quickly onwards.

**X.O.X**

"Brian…? Brian?" Colleen dusted off her skirt, taking a step through the back door of the homestead, superficially scanning the open space for any sign of her younger brother.

Squinting slightly, she paced further into the room, arriving by the table before she saw a feint movement from across the room.

"Brian Cooper… get outa there…" Colleen scolded, arriving at the edge of Michaela's bed, the young boy hidden underneath the quilt, the only detectable sound, his soft sobbing.

"Brian…" Colleen awkwardly prized the corner of the quilt back, having no choice but to slip her head underneath the covers to join him.

"Leave me 'lone…" His voice was tear-stained and shallow, his fingers remained clutched tightly around Michaela's dressing gown.

"Oh… Brian, you can't stay under here forever… worrying about Ma ain't gonna bring her back any quicker… you know that…" Colleen soothed, her right hand moving to stroke his back as she subtly pulled the quilt further and further from him.

"Colleen… think she went away coz she's upset that Sully won't love her no more?" Brian fidgeted with the light-colored buttons of Michaela's maroon dressing gown, his crying gradually diminishing.

"What are you… Brian… where do you get these ideas from?" The young girl scrunched up her brow, shaking her head in slightly frustrated miscomprehension.

"Coz Ma's gettin' heaps fat…" Brian let the words drop from his mouth, very matter-of-factly.

Colleen felt her chest tighten, the small edge of the patchwork quilt slipping from her fingers, her voice deadly serious. "She's what?"

The small boy's face paled; he'd dropped himself in it good and proper.

"She… ah… well… last night, I… didn't mean to…" He walked his fingers carefully over the circular pattern of the quilt, his eyes downcast and guilt-stricken.

"Brian, tell…" Colleen's fingers flew to the boy's chin immediately, forcing him to lock eyes with her.

"Last night… while you were outside, Ma… was… was… lookin' at her stomach…" He squirmed slightly, afraid Colleen was going to reprimand him for spying.

"Did she know you saw her?" Colleen enquired, her brown eyes darting between each of his, her right hand slipping from his chin back to the mattress.

"Nah… she was real upset, Colleen… that coz she's scared Sully won't love her if she gets fat?" He searched logically for an explanation behind what, to him, appeared bizarre behavior.

"I… yes, Brian. Ah… she's probably just worried 'bout that…" Colleen cleared her throat, realization having sunk in moments ago. All the pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place. Michaela's moodiness, her lack of appetite, the fainting spells, not to mention the selected textbooks… and of course… other absences that only another female living in the same house would be aware of.

"But she don't gotta worry 'bout that… Sully ain't like that… told me himself." Brian affirmed, remembering their conversation from before the baseball game.

"You mentioned this to Sully?" Colleen lowered her voice quickly, realizing she'd come across too harshly.

"Just asked him if he'd love Ma any less if she was fatter… he said no…" The young boy shrugged his shoulders, seemingly satisfied with not having gotten into trouble.

"Brian… you gotta promise me you won't tell no-one else about this… Promise me…" Colleen felt her head reeling, the anger and resentment she'd been feeling towards Michaela dissipating in a moment.

"Promise… why?" He tilted his head slightly, the quilt still resting over his hair and the tips of his ears.

"Because… ladies don't like it when anyone talks about their weight… makes 'em feel bad… you don't want Ma feelin' bad, right?" Colleen felt her jaw drop open, her guiding words sounding a million miles away to her by now. Her glance shifted slowly around the homestead, emotional revelation quickly catching up with physical.

"Course not… you don't gotta worry… I won't say nothin'… Colleen… can I stay here till they bring her back…?" The boy's unknowing words slipped innocently from his lips, his older sister relenting instantly, squeezing her arm around his shoulders in consolation.

"Sure… just you remember… it's a secret…" she pointed out clearly, her mind still reacting to the deduction. Colleen'd had her suspicions from the night Michaela had yelled at Brian when he'd been demanding to play checkers, however, after hearing Michaela's genuine relief the following morning, quickly dismissed the notion. Then, from the moment she'd turned and seen Michaela unconscious on the picnic rug, her worst fears had been re-ignited. Everything she'd seen for the month or so following that had only served to strengthen her concerns. And now it appeared it really was true.

"Just pray they find her, Brian…" Colleen tightened her grip on his shoulder, thoughts and images rushing untowardly into her mind. The young girl could appreciate how cataclysmic such a realization would be, immediately fearing that Dr. Michaela Quinn, may have decided to take matters into her own hands.


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

Watching the young man ride off into the distance, Sully shook his head. No matter what, he knew the whining wolf at his side was right. He also knew Matthew wouldn't give in.

"Matthew…!" He called a final time, the boy's right hand waving out to his side in final dismissal.

"Do what ya like!" Matthew moved Scout into a canter, quickly disappearing from view.

Sighing loudly, Sully encouraged the wolf forwards. After several minutes of riding, the clear landscape had transformed into a dense forest. Wolf, his nose fixed to the ground in dedication, increased his pace.

"Dr. Mike… Dr. Mike!" Sully pushed the horse through the densely overgrown forest, Flash walking nervously between rocks and shrubs, somewhat more cautious of her footing since the recent fall.

The wolf had maintained an eager distance ahead, his nose to the ground, occasional whimpering indicative to Sully that they were on the right path.

"Dr. Mike!" He called loudly again, before dismounting the horse and continuing their walk at a slower pace.

"Come on, girl…" Sully pulled lightly on Flash's reins, as the horse stepped tentatively forwards, inch by inch, remembering the familiar surroundings.

Sully glanced around quickly, before securing the horse to a large tree, and continuing in the direction the Wolf was leading.

**X.O.X**

Michaela brought her right hand up to brush the moisture from the bottom of her nose; a tired sigh filled the otherwise silent space. She turned her head upwards to gaze at the sky above, barely able to see the sunlight through the trees. She guessed an hour or so had passed, and glanced down at the now cold garments around her. Her clothes were still soaked; her petticoat clung to the material of her bloomers, and her white blouse fell rather immodestly against her chemise.

She lifted the edge of her skirt slightly, awkwardly bending over her knees to examine her left ankle. Undoing the laces of her boot, Michaela determined the swelling to have increased, therefore resulting in the injury seeming less painful. Resting her hands either side her on the smooth rock, Michaela pushed herself awkwardly upright, taking most of her weight on her right limb, hesitantly taking a small step forwards with her left.

"Ah," She winced through clenched teeth, falling quickly back down to the edge of the rock. It was hopeless.

Tears welling up once again in her eyes, Michaela wrapped her arms around her chest, biting her lip hard, in a desperate attempt to avoid the overpowering urge to burst into tears. It was in that moment that she heard it; A faint sound, still indistinguishable from the superficial noises of the forest.

Raising her head and looking around her, Michaela heard the sound return. It was a voice. Her heart sped up immediately… somehow the thought of being stuck out here alone was preferable to the idea that someone was approaching in the distance. Letting her eyes drop closed in defeat, Michaela tightened the corners of her mouth, the darkness behind her eyelids only amplifying the rustling sound of the approaching creature. She could hear the crunching of the leaves under its feet; but it wasn't loud enough to be a horse.

"Dr. Mike…?" It wasn't until she heard the voice, that overwhelming relief rushed through her veins. She knew that voice.

Opening her eyes immediately, Michaela was startled slightly by the Wolf nuzzling against her arm, his incessant whining drawing her attention to his human companion.

"Sully…" Her somewhat emotionally flat response was derived from a mixture of relief and embarrassment.

Quickly arriving by her side, Sully looked her up and down, his relief melding into concern and then worry.

"Ya all right?" he gestured to her noticeably disheveled appearance.

"I… I…" Michaela raised her arms in front of her hopelessly, mere words not sufficing as explanation of the complexity of the emotions she was being subjected to at that very moment.

"Got worried when Flash arrived back at the homestead… what happened?" Sully glanced between each of her eyes slowly, trying to read the confusion that lay within.

"Flash fell… we ended up in the creek…" She nodded to the creek ten or so yards from them.

"Ya hurt?" He moved towards her, at a loss to why she was out here in the middle of nowhere, and in an obviously distressed state.

"My… ankle… caught in the stirrup when we fell." Michaela turned and made deliberate eye contact with him for the first time.

"No problem… children were worried is all…" Sully held her gaze, the silence between them becoming uncomfortable.

Michaela could feel him staring at her, feel his eyes taking in her clumped up hair, which fell messily around her shoulders.

"Here…" Sully reached a hand forwards to carefully push away a strand of wet hair that was stuck to the side of her face.

"Thank you," she replied curtly, turning slightly, her misery obvious by this point. She desired nothing more than to get home and into some dry clothes.

As if able to read her thoughts, Sully gestured to her bunched up skirt.

"Brian'd be jealous… ya know how much he loves swimmin' in his clothes…" He chuckled light-heartedly under his breath, hoping to relax the tension between them, in preparation for the journey home.

"I wasn't swimming…" Michaela whispered dryly, once again feeling the heaviness build in her chest, the inevitability of her fate causing hopelessness to renew itself.

"Hey… only teasin', Michaela. Michaela…?" He repeated her name, noticing her eyes begin to glisten over.

"It's not…" she was about to chastise him for his previous jovial comment, however couldn't manage to get the final word out. A choked sob was all she could manage.

Sully looked up immediately upon hearing her stifled cries. He instantly closed the distance between them, encircling her back with his left arm and drawing her, without objection, to his chest.

"Sorry… didn't mean to make light of it…" Sully felt the wetness of her hair begin to seep through the fine fabric of his shirt. He did not mind in the slightest, if it meant he was able to provide her with the comfort he knew she needed.

"How do I… make this go away…" He rested his hand gently on the top of her head, the gentle shaking of her sobbing body against his chest, causing him to let his eyelids close. This was the moment he knew they needed. The moment he'd been longing for, for months now.

"Michaela… ain't nothing going to make this not have happened… just gotta remember… ya got people who love you… who are always gonna be there for ya… no matter what… no-one expects you to act like everything's all right… you don't gotta be so strong all the time…" Sully felt her fingers clasp the sleeve of his shirt, protectively bringing his left arm further around her back. Michaela's small hands clutched his right forearm desperately.

"I can't… it's not that simple… Sully…I…" Michaela felt a shiver ripple through her body, swallowing, not sure if she was really ready to be that honest with him.

"Ssh… you just gotta be patient, Michaela… still early days…" He glanced down at the wolf who'd settled himself defensively only several feet from Sully's legs.

"You don't understand… I," He saw the tormented agony sweep her face, his eyes dropping to study her perplexed expression, as he empathized with her reassuringly.

"I know you're scared… I know you feel like ain't nothin' gonna make everything all right again… just gotta give it time, Michaela…" He tightened his arms around her back securely, looking down to see her head drop, making it impossible to see her face any longer.

"I just feel so cheated. As if everything… everything I've worked for, struggled so hard for… wasn't worth it. That I would have been better off leading the life I was raised for, that this is some kind of punishment… That mother was right… that everything was a mistake… Then, when I catch myself wishing I'd died out there… I remember the children, and I feel all the more guilty," She remained perfectly still, Sully having no way of knowing the depths to which she felt her words.

"Michaela… look at me…" Sully frowned slightly, his eyes squinting as he reached for the edge of her jaw line, slowly lifting her head until he could see her eyes.

"I let everyone down… my family, you… my father… I can't stand it any longer… waking up… and it's the first thing I think of… not being able to sleep because I can't stop remembering… and what's worse is… I don't know how I can live with it… but I don't have a choice…" Michaela turned her attention to the tips of her fingers, seeing her nails dug deeply into his arm. Quickly removing her hand, Michaela felt his arm move from her back.

"You didn't let no-one down… don't you go thinkin' that… sometimes… things like this happen… don't make any sense at the time… just seems like pain… but there's always something we're meant to gain from it all… some purpose… some…" Sully searched desperately for the right words, none seeming appropriate.

"I… can't believe that. Maybe… I'm not strong enough…" Michaela felt his fingers interlock with hers, waiting for what she assumed would be instant contradiction of her words.

Sully watched her study their joined hands, about to follow with immediate refute; however, he heard something else in her tone. Something that told him she herself knew she was strong enough, that she could be strong enough, that she just felt alone.

He watched a new tear trickle from the edge of her right eye, knowing that her defenses were down, knowing that she just might respond to his question; this time.

"Michaela… tell me… tell me what happened…" He felt the blood drain from his face; thinking about it was one thing, knowing he might now have to deal with sitting here and hearing it first-hand, was quite another. Sully felt his words linger in the silence between them, seemingly unheard, whilst he watched a minute drop of water travel along a wisp of Michaela's hair, picking up speed as it moved along the delicate strands, eventually falling once it reached the end, landing with an inaudible rupturing, mingling back with the water that still soaked her right shoulder.

He knew better than to look at her face for such a response; if indeed one was going to be forthcoming. About to consider changing the subject, Sully watched the tips of her fingers, still interlocked with his own, curl slightly, barely making contact with his hand. It was enough of a movement that he could sense she'd heard his statement; enough that he felt in his heart, she would reply.

"I saw you… at the bottom of the cliff… that's all I could see… all I could think of. I… tried to… go to you, but…" Michaela blinked a single blink, new recollections filling her mind.

"I was tired… but I remember being… on a horse again… then nothing… I can see fragments of memory, rather than everything in sequence… everything looked the same after a few days… I knew… but somehow I kept hoping. I thought maybe… maybe it wouldn't happen… but then I'd see you lying there again… and remember… I couldn't stand thinking of you any longer… I… because I wanted to fight. I knew that if I thought of you… I tried to fight… I tried…" Michaela's eyes fell closed, before opening them again in a flash, for anything was better than the darkness behind her lids.

"I tried." She dropped her head slightly, her fingers tensing against his as the memory played out, not just in her mind, but in her eyes; her body.

"I could see the blade of the knife… shimmering… the moon shining through just enough to catch it… and… as I saw it… I felt it… like a scalpel… so sharp you don't feel it… until it's too late…" She brought her hand subconsciously to the left side of her neck, moving her fingers away slowly, as if to check there was no blood.

"I knew then that I had a choice… but… Brian… the children… I couldn't stop seeing them… I couldn't stop… hearing their voices, hearing Christmas carols, and seeing Brian… dressed up… in that… _ridiculous_ hat…" Michaela's voice cracked slightly, her sobs breaking into a heartless, exasperated chuckle, only to be replaced immediately with stronger, more desperate pleas.

"Then… I was just… cold…" She looked down at her damp clothes clinging tightly to her upper body. Michaela could feel the wet material sticking to her skin, its heaviness had become physically suffocative.

"And… and… I couldn't… his hands…" She tensed her shoulders slightly, Sully letting his left arm move from her back, having realized that overwhelming proximity at this point may be too intrusive.

Michaela looked down momentarily to see that her arms had wrapped protectively around her chest, her hands clutching frantically, even violently at her upper arms.

"Please… make it… go away… I can still feel it… make it stop…" She continued clawing at her arms and shoulders, her nails scratching through the delicate material of her blouse.

"Michaela… it's all right… it's…" Sully drew a pained breath, fighting the indescribable urge to reach out and put an end to her potentially harmful outburst.

She didn't hear him. Her face dropped, hands mechanically moving along her arms, tearing desperately at the illusionary presence. Her gaze had fixated on a small patch of moss growing on the corner of the rock only inches from her right knee. Sully's eyes darted helplessly between her face and her fingers, her nails eventually splitting through the finely woven cotton, but still she did not stop.

"Michaela…" His voice was stern, seeing the tendons on the backs on her hands raise with the strength she was exerting on her arms. He couldn't bear seeing the pain on her face, mirroring the pain in her heart. Looking down towards his chest, Sully was being reminded of everything he'd seen that afternoon in the tepee; looking up only when he heard her voice trail off into anguished howls.

Quickly leaning forwards, he nervously brought a hand to her left shoulder, relieved when she once again sank back against his chest, her arms falling with exhaustion to her lap.

"It'll be all right, Michaela… won't be like this forever…" He swallowed, feeling her rock weakly in his arms; her face red with torment, her cheeks tear-stained.

"I know it hurts now… but in time… be easier…" Sully sighed, his attention still focused on the air leaving his lungs following his statement, before being drawn to a small, almost animal-like cry escaping Michaela's lips.

"No…" She protested, her voice nothing more than a forced whisper.

"Michaela?" Sully frowned subtly, tilting his head so as to try to get a glimpse of her face, however she kept it buried against his chest.

"I…" Michaela replayed Sully's words over in her head slowly, being caught off-guard when she felt the twinge. Tightening her jaw and squeezing her eyes closed firmly, she pushed her forehead deeper against his chest, bracing herself against the sharp, radiating discomfort spiraling from her stomach.

_No… please… not here… not like this…_

"Michaela… you all right?" Sully felt her nose push harder into his chest, realizing she'd stopped crying minutes earlier. Reaching his right hand towards her chin, he managed to raise her head slightly.

"Sully… can we… go home…?" She whispered, her voice childlike and high-pitched.

"Sure… your ankle hurtin'?" He suddenly remembered her ailment, awkwardly pulling away from her, to arrive on his knees to her left.

"Yes…" She felt the white lie leave her lips; the pain had subsided for a moment, allowing her time to draw a breath. It wasn't intense, only uncomfortable, and she was able to hide it sufficiently.

"Come on… left Flash just past those trees… we're not far from home, anyway…" He brushed the top of her shoulder slightly, Michaela allowing him to help her to her feet.

Having just adjusted her weight on her right leg, Michaela glanced towards the direction he'd just indicated, about to vocalize her inability to walk, when she felt his arms encircle her ribcage and the back of her thighs.

"Sorry… I, just thought…" Sully felt a lump form in his throat, Michaela's stunned expression at being swept off the ground making him regret his impulsivity.

"No… it's fine…" She rested her left arm around his back, as they began the short journey back to the horse. As she felt herself pressed securely against his chest, Michaela gripped the edge of her damp skirt, in an attempt to combat the discomfort from both her stomach and ankle. Continuing through the densely overgrown forest, the light cramping once again subsided. Michaela let the material drop from her fingers, turning to study Sully's face as he made his way towards the horse, unaware of the turmoil she was in.


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

"Wanna make some cookies?" Colleen sighed, dropping the dish cloth over the back of one of the chairs, in frustration.

"No. Want Ma back…" Came Brian's muffled reply, still buried underneath Michaela's quilt.

"How about… ah… game a baseball?" She cringed slightly, not in the least bit interested, however trying anything by this stage to alleviate Brian's depression.

"Want… Ma… back…!" He whined, his erratic behavior giving into a full-blown tantrum, as he pulled all the blankets and pillows in towards the center of the bed, the exasperated movements leaving him out of breath.

"Brian… please…" Colleen ran her left hand down the side of her face, and pulled out the wooden chair, collapsing her weight down onto it, knowing there were bigger issues to attend to besides Brian's attachment insecurities.

The young girl merely rested her chin in her hands, as the boy continued to ignore her, performing more to get a reaction than anything else now. Deflecting her gaze from him at the moment he commenced jumping up and down on the bed, Colleen saw the pile of textbooks on the edge of the mantelpiece, getting to her feet and bringing them back to the table.

"Brian, I'm gonna count to three and then you're spending tonight out in the barn with Matthew… One…" Colleen hadn't even turned to look at him at that point, however could hear that the jumping had ceased.

Turning to confirm her suspicions, she felt her shoulders hunch; Brian was curled up on Michaela's quilt and dressing gown, tears streaming from his face.

"Brian… Sully'll find her… I…" Colleen shook her head, realizing she couldn't install false hope. She crossed the room, sitting once again on the edge of the bed, and reached out a hand to lay it on his back.

"Just… just like my dream, Colleen…" The small boy's voice was thin, his back shaking as he continued crying.

"Dream?" She ventured, suspecting this wasn't going to be a pleasant topic, however felt any distraction, no matter how distressing, would be a more beneficial alternative to just leaving him to sob into the bedclothes.

"Ma… was ridin' Flash… but she was ridin' real scary like… and I knew she was gonna fall… but I couldn't do nothin' to stop it… and then she fell… then I woke up…" Brian traced his fingers delicately along the pattern of the quilt.

"Was she hurt?" Colleen leant forwards to enquire, surprised at the predictability of her brother's nightmares.

"Yeah… I couldn't see though… I just knew she was hurt…" Brian hung his head, Colleen continuing to rub his back consolingly.

"Don't you worry Brian… won't be lettin' her go off ridin' any…" The children froze simultaneously, hearing the horse approach quickly towards the homestead.

"Ma… Ma? Ma!... Ma!" Brian leapt instantaneously from the bed, pulling the front door of the homestead open and disappearing out onto the porch. Colleen hung her head thoughtfully for a few moments, hearing the door bang against the cupboard behind it, before rising to her feet and following the boy outside.

"Where's…?" Brian ran to the front of the porch, his small body slamming against the railings as he recognized the approaching horse.

"Heya little brother…" Matthew dismounted the horse, securing him several feet from Brian's dejected frame.

"What about Sully?" Brian reached possessively for Matthew's arm, the young man engulfing his brother in a comforting hug.

"You mean he ain't back yet?" Matthew looked around, an expression of disbelieving anger creeping across his face.

"No… thought you were stickin' together?" Colleen had emerged from the homestead by that time, her right hand worriedly on her hip, she interrogated her older brother.

"He wanted to go off traipsing into the forest… 'stead a checking 'round the Harrison's… reckoned Wolf had a scent… obviously don't look too good if they're still not back…" Matthew rolled his eyes, the rage that was still brewing from almost four mouths ago rising to the surface.

"Matthew… it's gonna be _fine_… _remember_…" Colleen's eye's flashed meaningfully in their younger brother's direction.

"Yeah… whatever… fine…" He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, reaching for the first thing that touched his fingertips; the small black carving knife Sully had given him over two years ago. Without a moment's hesitation, Matthew pulled his hands from his pockets, flinging the object furiously against the front of the homestead.

"Hey… Sully gave ya that…" Brian frowned, not understanding the significance of his brother's display.

"Matthew… get in here... Brian… you… you wait and keep watch…" Colleen darted her eyes between her two brothers, before pulling Matthew towards the door, shutting it once they were both inside.

"Just what is up with you! I've had it up to _here_ with Brian all day, and then you get home… actin' just as bad…" She scolded, her shoulders heaving in pent up outrage.

"Like you don't know… He's gone and done it again, ain't he? Tryin' to play the hero, actin' like he knows best… pushin' off anyone else's attempts of advice. Meanwhile, Dr. Mike's still out there… _again…_" Matthew's eyes blazed, the strength of his voice indicating to Colleen he'd been bottling up this anger for months now.

"You know Sully ain't like that. He only wants what's best for Dr. Mike…" Colleen lowered her eyebrows, trying to read the blank darkness that had crossed Matthew's face.

"Yeah… right… all he's interested in is making up for screwin' up last time… He ain't the one gotta be here day in, day out… see what she's goin' through… He ain't the one who's gotta be pickin' up the pieces every time it all falls apart…" Matthew turned, his right hand gesturing towards the wooden floor several yards away where the plate had been smashed only the night before.

"You finished?" Colleen crossed her arms with a huff, waiting for her brother to calm down enough to be receptive.

"I'm just sick of it, Colleen! Sick of seeing how hard you and I try every day… He don't see any of it… then thinks he's got the right to tell me where we're gonna go searchin'…" Matthew slowed the pace of his voice, noticing the dismayed hopelessness more clearly on his sister's face.

"Well, you and I ain't the only ones been tryin' real hard lately, Matthew." Colleen let her arms drop back to her waist, fidgeting with the waistband of her skirt as she searched for the right words.

"I… I needa tell ya something… don't think no-one else should know yet… not 'til I find out for certain one way or…" The siblings turned towards the closed door, hearing a faint barking sound.

Colleen reached the door first, opening it and slipping out onto the porch, to hear Brian's exulted cries.

"Ma!" Brian screeched, nearly falling over his feet in his attempt to run from the porch, down the steps and across the yard to the approaching horse.

"Guess who gets to play the hero, again…" Matthew whispered slyly.

"Oh… grow up…" Colleen flicked her blond hair over her left shoulder, a relieved smile appearing on her face, as the pair continued along the porch after Brian.

"Here, Brian… you hold Flash for me…" Sully, having led the horse back to the homestead, handed the boy the reins. Colleen and Matthew arrived just behind Brian, as Sully carefully helped Michaela from the horse. Brian thrust the reins into his brother's hands, hovering quickly to his mother's side.

"Ma… ya all right, Ma? What happened…" Brian reached for her left hand, gripping the sleeve of her white blouse possessively, as Sully adjusted Michaela in his arms.

"Ya Ma just had a little accident… she's fine, Brian…" Sully nodded towards the homestead, Colleen quickly disappearing inside to remake Michaela's bed after Brian's earlier tantrum.

"She don't look fine… Ma?" He frowned, unconvinced.

"Brian… I'm fine, sweetheart… I just sprained my ankle. I'm fine." Michaela sighed, reassuring the overly concerned boy. She watched as he processed her words, letting his fingers unclench from her blouse.

"Oh…" He hung his head, staring down towards her feet, as if expecting a sprained ankle to be outwardly apparent.

"Come on… get ya inside, ya can put ya feet up…" Sully glanced quickly at Matthew as he proceeded to carry Michaela across the yard, and into the homestead, Brian trailing loyally behind them.

Colleen had just finished remaking the bed, when Sully and Michaela entered the homestead behind her. Placing Michaela down carefully onto the mattress, he turned to the girl; Colleen appearing more absorbed in studying Michaela's ragged appearance.

"Ya might wanna help her outa those wet clothes, I'll ah… head outside wait with the boys…" Sully stared Brian down instantly, the small boy watching the older man's eyes dart from him to the doorway, receiving the message very clearly; they were leaving.

"But… But…" Brian protested, Sully patting his back quickly in encouragement.

"Come on, help Matthew put Flash away…" Sully watched the boy pace sulkily out onto the porch, before turning momentarily to see Colleen back at Michaela's bedside.

"Medical bag's out with Flash if ya need it…" Sully frowned, noticing Michaela's quietness, barely a word having passed between them throughout the journey home.

Colleen frowned slightly, not following his meaning. She turned towards him, shaking her head. "I don't…?" Sully cut her off, his right hand resting on the doorframe.

"Flash spooked crossing a river, Dr. Mike sprained her ankle…" Sully informed the girl slowly, before he nodded and slowly left the room. Colleen did not rotate back to face Michaela until the door had closed firmly behind him.

"Dr. Mike?" Colleen rested her hands nervously on the edge of the bed, thoughts flooding through her mind, an overwhelming realization beginning to dawn on her. If indeed Michaela was pregnant, Colleen knew she knew better than to be riding; therefore Colleen's worse suspicions were confirmed. If Michaela was pregnant, then there was only one possible reason for her to still be riding.

"I'm all right, Colleen… really…" Michaela reached hesitantly for the top button of her blouse, having no excuse to not begin stripping the wet clothes from her body.

"But Sully said… your ankle?" Colleen walked around the edge of Michaela's bed, pushed the white curtain aside, and entered her dressing area, searching for dry clothing.

"It's not as bad as it was... just a superficial sprain…" Michaela pulled the still damp blouse from her skirt, realizing the sun had dried her clothing from the outside in, and her chemise was still wet to the touch.

"You want fresh clothing… or just a nightdress, Dr. Mike?" The young girl turned back towards the bed, her right arm gripping her left upper arm, her previous conversation with Brian still playing on her mind.

"I…" Michaela looked down at the soaking wet clothing she was still in, realizing that in either case she'd have to change her undergarments, quickly deducing that her nightgown would see this achieved with far greater speed and propriety.

"A nightdress will be fine, Colleen," Michaela replied, just wishing she had some privacy for a few minutes. The discomfort she'd been feeling sporadically over the last half an hour or so had faded, however, Michaela did not know whether to be relieved or not. The prospect that the one thing she'd struggled for, begged for over the past few weeks, could be coming true, suddenly proved terrifying.

"Here…" Colleen placed the neatly folded clothing just beside her, pacing efficiently around to the left side of the bed once again, reaching her arm out to help Michaela pull herself to her feet.

"Brian was real worried, Dr. Mike… Matthew too…" Colleen muttered, Michaela balancing her weight uneasily against the young girl's shoulder.

"Well… there was no need…" Michaela awkwardly unfastened her pale lilac skirt, the heavy material falling from her waist into a heap at her feet.

Colleen deflected her eyes subtly, although curiosity was still biting at her heels; She wanted to know. Michaela fortunately was unaware of her daughter's suspicions, too preoccupied with just wanting to get into dry clothing to notice that her saturated bloomers clung obviously to her slightly protruding stomach. Not that her small belly was excessively apparent, however Colleen knew, from more traumatic situations, how slim Michaela was. In what was only a fleeting glance as the young girl bent down to collect the damp skirt from the floor, her suspicions were confirmed.

"So… you're not… hurt…?" Colleen swallowed, laying the skirt on the side of the bed as she helped Michaela back into a sitting position.

"Just… I… I fell… on my side… my shoulder…" Michaela winced slightly, managing to slip her arms from the sleeves of her blouse, handing the slightly damaged item to Colleen.

"Dr. Mike… your arms…" The girl frowned, her attention shifting immediately from the garment in her hands to Michaela's scratched and red skin.

"It's noth-" Michaela was about to dismiss Colleen's concerns swiftly, however took the opportunity to glance down at the self-inflicted scratch marks.

"Ma… I… here…" She reached across the bed for the nightgown, before settling herself back at Michaela's feet, delicately untying the laces of her black boots.

Michaela's fingers fell lightly over the crisp, soft fabric, before slipping the gown over her head and discreetly unbuttoning her chemise, Colleen continuing to carefully remove her boots.

"You finish, I'll go get your bag… bandage your ankle… put some salve on your arms…" Colleen tenderly slid Michaela's stockings from her legs, rolling them into a neat ball and placing them beside her boots on the edge of the quilt.

"Thank-you…" Michaela settled the nightdress around her waist, worried that the relief in her sighed response may have been too obvious. She clasped her hands in her lap, watching as the young girl stood and walked from the room.

**X.O.X**

Sully ruffled Brian's hair playfully, the young boy sitting on a bale of hay, head in his hands, watching his older brother unharness Flash.

"Did Ma really end up in a river, Sully…? That why her clothes all wet?" Brian raised an eyebrow, carefully peeling a piece of straw into fine strands.

"Yeah…" Sully crossed the straw-covered floor, sensing Matthew's hostility as he bundled the harness together and led the horse into her stall.

"Is she all right?" Matthew's voice was heavy and thick with resentment.

"Fine… sprained ankle…" Sully nodded slowly, Matthew disappearing momentarily into the stall as he settled the horse in for the night.

"Makes a change…" Came the stinging reply, Brian lowering his head, absorbing himself in mutilating yet another innocent straw of hay.

Sully looked from the small boy across to the stall where Flash was being secured in. Sliding his feet across the floor, he was determined to hear what ever it was Matthew needed to get off his chest.

"If there's somethin' ya wanna say to me… then… I wanna hear it…" Sully rested his elbows over the edge of the fence, Matthew having just finished returning a very exhausted Flash to her stall, before hanging up her bridle and reins. What had become a tactful enquiry into Michaela's well-being, had quickly developed into a much subtler discourse.

"No you don't… trust me…" Matthew secured the stall fence closed, dusting off his hands and avoiding Sully's encouraging eyes.

"Matthew…" He reached for his arm, fingers locking around the young man's elbow, neither of them expecting the outburst that followed.

"Had to play the hero again, didn't ya… had to be the knight in shining armor… To hell with the consequences… as long as you managed to save the day!" Matthew pulled his arm away violently, Sully moving forwards at precisely the wrong moment, receiving a fist squarely in the gut, neither expecting the physical contact to be so forceful.

"I think you needa settle down… I know you're upset… know you were worried…" Sully watched as Matthew slowly pulled his clenched hand away, bringing it in a very controlled manner back down to his side, before looking the older man directly in the eyes.

"What the hell do you know… you know _nothing_… you're only 'round here for the roast dinners, and the sing-a-longs, and the romantic moonlight talks… you're not here when it matters… Not here when Brian goes screaming across the homestead into his Ma's bed in the middle of the night, not here when Colleen has to comfort Dr. Mike when she's crying her lungs out, broken china scattered at her feet. You ain't around for the tough stuff… you ain't around to see what my sister has to cope with, struggling, doin' everything she can to keep this family together…" Matthew narrowed his eyes, seeing Brian crouched nervously behind a bale of hay.

"Get inside!" he ordered, his voice gruff and deep, something neither Brian, nor Sully had ever heard before. Without a sound, the young boy scampered from the barn, Sully shaking his head, about to turn back to Matthew in confrontation.

"Matthew… no need to go yellin' at him like that…" Sully raised his hand, trying as non-threateningly as possible to calm the young man down.

"Don't you tell me how to talk to my own brother, ain't none of your business! We were goin' just fine as a family, before you got involved. Come to think of it, none a this woulda happened in the first place… was you gettin' Dr. Mike to go out to the Reservation all the time, caused this… and then you couldn't even finish what you started…" Matthew had raised his right hand in front of them by this stage, his fingers crumpling into a fist, as he attempted to push aside the emotion that had coated his voice.

"Why… why'd you let 'em take her…. Why'd you let 'im hurt her…. Why didn't you _stop this_…" The young man had to look away; he couldn't let the tears falling from his eyes be seen.

Sully drew a silent breath; knowing everything Matthew had said was true. Knowing he couldn't forgive himself for that, he could only do everything in his power to help everyone recover.

"You're right. That's something I'm gonna have to live with… same as Dr. Mike… same as you, and Colleen, and Brian. Same as Cloud Dancin', and Snowbird. Blaming people don't make it stop hurtin', Matthew…" Sully saw Colleen enter the barn, communicating visually that she needed to give them several minutes alone. The young girl quickly retrieved the medical bag on the floor by the barn door, and retreated back towards the homestead.

**X.O.X**

Michaela dropped her boots to the floor beside her bed. A guilt-ridden heaviness settled in her chest, when she reflected upon Colleen's tact and gentleness.

Reaching her hands under the gathered material of the nightgown, Michaela found the waistband of her bloomers, pushing them gently past her hips and along her legs until she felt them brush over the tips of her feet.

Bundling her clothes into an orderly pile, Michaela pushed the nightgown over her knees with a perplexed sigh. She sunk her head back against the headboard of the bed; the goose bumps forming on her forearms complimenting the panicked tingling which ran through every vein of her being.

_Nothing._

She'd been sure from the moment she felt the tightness radiating from her lower abdomen, to the moment she reached for the waistband of her bloomers that she'd succeeded. Even though the discomfort had ceased during the long uncomfortable ride home, Michaela had remained confident the violent horse ride had served its purpose.

_Nothing._

Glancing at the clothes neatly piled beside her, Michaela cringed, remembering the clean undergarments she'd removed only moments before. There had been no indication that her earlier exertion had in any way helped to free her from her unmentionable circumstance.

Her head tilted back to glance up at the ceiling, Michaela felt emotional intensity threaten to overtake her once again. She distracting herself by reaching down to draw the quilt up to her chest. Settling her arms in her lap, Michaela felt herself jump at the sound of the door opening beside her. Brian's distinctive blond head appeared around the wooden door.

"Ma?" He held his hands over his eyes, remembering how bad he'd felt for his earlier spying.

"Brian, I'm finished," Michaela replied, shaking her head tiredly as the young boy approached the bed, gesturing with his hand before settling himself comfortably beside her.

"Did you and Sully have a fun time playing baseball?" Michaela drew the left side of her mouth up in question.

"Not really… I dunno… Ma…?" Brian frowned, looking in confused concern between the ajar door, his hands in his lap and finally Michaela's face.

"You look worried about something, Brian?" Michaela tentatively moved her right hand from her lap, wrapping it around his small palm.

"Matthew's mad at Sully again…" Brian hung his head; mad was an understatement.

**X.O.X**

Matthew had, by this time, controlled his tears; His tears, but not his anger.

"That's fine from where you're sittin'… makes perfect sense… Well, it don't make no sense when you have to see that pain everyday on the faces of people you love. Don't make no sense when I can't even be with Ingrid, without remembering what happened to Ma… So, tell me… tell me how I'm meant to make sense of it all… please…" Matthew swallowed, knowing his question was purely rhetorical, however somewhat amused at the notion that Sully might just attempt to answer it.

"You're right… I can't…" Sully looked between Matthew's distraught face, and the hay-strewn floor, before returning his gaze to the boy's empty eyes.

"I can't… I'm sorry…" Sully balanced his weight out between his feet, before turning towards the barn door, pacing slowly through it and away from Matthew's view.

**X.O.X**

"Told ya about the bad dream I had though, Ma… told ya you were gonna fall off Flash…" Brian nodded his head, a childlike wisdom evident in the tone of his voice.

"Guess I should have listened…" Michaela idly smoothed out his fine hair, her thoughts a million miles away, not having heard the several minutes of ramblings from the child's mouth.

The pair looked across the room as the door opened once again. Colleen reentered the room and arrived next to Brian beside the bed.

"Dr. Mike… started some soup after lunch… should be ready in a few hours," The young girl focused her attention on bandaging Michaela's left ankle, barely able to bring herself to glance in her mother's direction.

"Fine, Colleen…" Michaela responded, watching the girl absorb herself in the task. Brian seized his opportunity immediately and pulled himself from the bed.

"How about some checkers, Ma? Just 'til supper…" The hope-filled smile spread across the child's face.

"No, Brian… Dr. Mike's gotta rest…" Colleen tied the ends of the bandage together, her hands falling back awkwardly to her lap.

"Aww…." The young boy whined habitually, Colleen hushing him with a finger to her lips angrily.

"Maybe later, Brian…" Michaela looked strangely between her two children, surprised at the authority in Colleen's voice.

"Alright, Ma…" He sat back on the bed, before unexpectedly crawling over Michaela's legs to settle himself at her right.

"Can't I stay if I promise to be real quiet… won't move or make a sound, I promise…" Brian pleaded, dropping his head to the pillow in imitation.

"I suppose… just you let Dr. Mike sleep…" Colleen clipped the metal clasp on Michaela's bag closed with a loud click, settling it on the floor beside her bed, whilst Michaela reluctantly pushed herself further down in the bed.

"Wake you when supper's ready…" Colleen informed her unemotionally, crossing the room and attending to the soup on the stove.

"Night Ma…" Brian waited until Colleen was out of earshot, before whispering across the mere inches between their heads.

Michaela felt the boy's hand brush against her own as her eyes dropped closed, her head sinking with exhaustion into the pillow.

Brian smiled softly as he noticed sleep almost instantly overtake her, his eyes glistening in the relief that she was once again back safe by his side.

**X.O.X**

Matthew finished chopping through the final piece of wood, collecting the pile together, as Colleen appeared several feet behind him.

"Supper, Matthew…" She called lightly, waiting until she knew he'd heard her before returning back inside.

"Can I wake Ma up, Colleen?" Brian whispered, having remained vigilantly seated on the edge of the bed.

"All right, Brian…" Colleen finished dishing the soup into the bowls, moving them two at a time over towards the table.

"Ma… supper… supper…" Brian shook her shoulder lightly, Michaela stirring tiredly.

"You stay there, Dr. Mike…" Colleen located a small wooden tray alongside the stacked crockery, moving Michaela's bowl and spoon onto it.

"I'm… really all right to…" Michaela sighed, frustrated by the beneficial properties her enforced bed rest was having.

"No you're not… here…" Colleen's tone was defiant and brisk, setting the tray carefully in Michaela's lap.

"Come on, Brian… at the table…" Colleen raised an eyebrow, the boy scampering to his place.

Colleen sat down beside Brian, everyone looking up as Matthew entered the room, placing the firewood precariously in a pile near the stone fireplace, taking his seat opposite his sister.

Brian reached his hands out to his sides, the young boy looking awkward between his mother and sister, for instruction.

"Who's saying the blessin'?" Brian asked, his mouth twitching slightly.

"Think it's Matthew's turn…" Colleen shrugged, her voice dejected and tired.

"Right… ah…" Matthew cleared his throat, taking his brother and sister's hands, everyone bowing their heads solemnly.

"We thank the Lord for the food before us, like to thank Colleen for preparing it, and ah, for us being here as a family to enjoy it… Amen…" Matthew finished succinctly.

"Amen…" Michaela, Colleen and Brian, responded, before they all lifted their heads and proceeded with supper.

"Smells great, Colleen…" Matthew smiled, reaching for a biscuit and splitting it open. Brian followed suit, proudly reaching into his pocket and retrieving his pocketknife to slice the hot biscuit open.

"Thanks…" Colleen placed the final bowl down in front of herself, alternating her gaze between Michaela and the steaming liquid.

"Yes… it's delicious…" Michaela brought the spoon to her lips, aware of the bizarre attention she was receiving from Colleen.

"Just so long as you eat it…" The young girl flicked a strand of hair from her shoulder, as she turned her head, her eyes unwittingly locking with Michaela's for a single moment.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Michaela nearly dropped the spoon, Colleen's icy expression melting into a single raised eyebrow. Matthew and Brian remained oblivious to the exchange, amused in throwing scraps subtly to Pup.

"Thought you'd know better that's all…" Colleen glanced across to ensure the boys were still distracted, before resting her chin in her right hand, taking another mouthful of soup as Michaela took in her words.

"I… don't…" Michaela felt the hairs on her face and the back of her neck tingle, unable to escape the stern expression on Colleen's face.

"Don't give me that…" Colleen shoved the spoon into her mouth, Matthew's eyes flashing in her direction, having just managed to catch the last few words of their conversation.

"What?" The young man stretched his arms out behind his head, settling himself more comfortably into the chair.

"Nothin'…" Colleen dropped her eyelids, both women turning their attention back towards the food in front of them.

Michaela could feel her heart palpating in her chest, concentrating all her efforts on moving the spoon slowly around in her bowl, her mind churning irrational and catastrophic thoughts at her faster than she could refute them.

_She knows. But how does she know? I've been so careful… I don't understand…_

Michaela was once again left with a single, undeniable truth:

_I can't deal with this…_

**X.O.X**

Colleen felt the cool night air against her cheek, as she opened her eyes. She'd been tossing and turning for the last few minutes, before eventually giving up and pushing the blankets from her chest. The homestead was silent, except for the gentle sighing sound Brian made when he was in a deep sleep.

Sitting up carefully, she swung her legs down to the cold floorboards and pulled herself to her feet. Carefully pushing the curtain aside just enough to slip through it, the young girl was relieved to find the fire burnt-out, Michaela appearing fast asleep for a change.

Colleen's mouth twitching slightly, she crossed the room, arriving less than a foot from her mother's bedside, ensuring that she was, in fact, asleep. Eyes locking on Michaela's peacefully sleeping form, Colleen emitted a silent sigh. Maybe she had been too hard on her.

Noticing the quilt bunched around her waist, Colleen leant forwards, tenderly dragging the soft linen upwards, repositioning it over Michaela's shoulders, glad she had not disturbed her.

She continued to stare down at her for several moments, the moonlight illuminating Michaela's face just enough for Colleen to appreciate the serenity of her expression. Her eyes were gently closed, her mouth slightly open, her fine, long hair spread evenly over each shoulder.

It was at that moment that Colleen felt realization dawn on her. Despite her tough, competent exterior, her mother was as fallible as anyone else. The young girl was reminded of the moment she'd first taken in the extent of Michaela's injuries; over three and a half months ago when Hank had laid her unconscious body upon the examination table in front of them. In the time that had passed, Colleen realized Michaela had struggled to renew that confidence and security… and that it was now slipping from her control all over again.

Drawing her gaze away, Colleen circled the homestead several times, sleep seeming a long way off. Her eyes focusing on the rocking chair beside the fireplace, the young girl reached for the colorful blanket, before taking her seat and draping it over her legs and torso.

Looking back to ensure Michaela was still soundly asleep, Colleen relaxed her shoulders and back against the wooden chair, her eyes dropping closed as her mind digested the revelations of the day gone by.

Remembering her biting words over supper, Colleen felt guilty. She'd reacted purely to the evidence before her; that Michaela was trying desperately to put an end to this pregnancy. Crossing her ankles and settling her hands on the arms of the chair, Colleen grappled with the complex dilemma. But killing another person was wrong, no matter what. And killing an unborn child was the same as killing a person. Colleen knew in the depths of her heart that this was a sin. She was also confronted with the realization that Michaela probably felt exactly the same way. So why was her mother doing this? So, this child would be part Indian… Colleen knew Michaela had no such racial prejudices that would prevent her from loving the baby, after all, she'd been prepared to adopt the cowboy's baby, and this was her own child…

Colleen opened her eyes to tuck the blanket tighter around her body. She momentarily turned to check that Michaela was still asleep, before returning to her thoughts.

The young girl knew instinctively that somehow, no matter what, Michaela had to love this child. She let her eyes fall closed once again, and for the first time in a long time, pictured Charlotte. Colleen knew how her mother felt about the gift of life, the miracle of pregnancy, however she also knew that her mother would have been supportive of any woman in this situation; but never to the extent that she would condone such destruction.

Nodding her head in decision, Colleen realized she had to approach this in the manner she believed her mother would have. She had to try to the best of her ability to make sure Michaela didn't push herself too hard, but at the same time, try and get Michaela to face up to the reality within her. She knew the latter part would prove the most challenging.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

**X.O.X**

**Monday, 28****th**** August, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Grace finished tucking her blouse back neatly into her skirt, as Michaela dropped instruments into a bowl of alcohol.

"So… there's nothing I can do?" Grace wiped the nervous perspiration from her left temple, ensuring she was suitably redressed to leave.

"I'm unable to find any medical explanation for your inability to conceive, Grace… however… I'd like you to start keeping a record of your monthlies, each month, and working back, two weeks from when you think the next one is due… scientifically, that's when you're most likely to be… successful." Michaela updated Grace's file, making a note of what they discussed, as well as the examination she'd carried out, before closing the chart, and filing it back in the cabinet.

"All right, Dr. Mike… if you say so… just… seems like every month keeps coming by… and…" Grace nodded her head, conveying her meaning as several tear drops ran down from each eye.

"I'm afraid there's... not really any easy solution, Grace… I'm sorry." Michaela's voice was direct, a tinge of bitterness audible in her final apology. She wasn't sorry. She was envious.

"I guess it's like what Robert E. says… when God thinks it's time… we'll be blessed…" Grace consoled herself, dabbing ineffectively at her eyes, before slipping down from the edge of the examination table, crossing the room and opening the door.

"I'll… see you again in a few months, Dr. Mike?" Grace turned, expecting a quick reply. Michaela seemed a million miles away, unresponsive to the sound of her friend's voice.

"Dr. Mike?" Grace reiterated, getting an instant reply.

"Oh… yes… that will be fine, Grace…" Michaela drifted off, hearing the door close as Grace left the room.

Bringing her palms to her cheeks, as she inhaled deeply, Michaela turned and gazed out through the window onto the street. Horace and Myra were making their way down from the telegraph office, arms clutched together excitedly.

"Myra, honey… you sure you don't wanna go in by yourself…?" Horace rested his arm supportively around her waist, as the pair continued walking alongside the edge of the main street.

"Course not, Horace… want you there with me. It's your baby as much as mine. 'Sides… if anything was wrong, don't think I could bear to hear it alone…" Myra cringed, immediately dismissing the concern as Horace squeezed her right hand.

"Now don't you go talkin' like that… everything's gonna be fine… just routine… you'll see." Horace reassured, as they stepped onto the porch of the Clinic, Horace sensitively ensuring Myra was seated on the bench comfortably before ringing the door bell.

**X.O.X**

"He's sweet on you… you know it…" Becky pulled excitedly on Colleen's left arm, the two girls disappearing around the back of the schoolhouse, lunch tins in hand.

"Becky…" Colleen giggled, her cheeks flushed bright red. The two best friends took their seats on the edge of a fallen log.

"Oh, don't you go denying it… the way he stroked your hand… lookin' deep into your eyes when he asked you to marry him… that weren't just actin'…" Becky continued, her voice taking on a lilting, dreamlike quality.

"I dunno… Guess he is kinda cute… and he's into science and all…" Colleen frowned, for the first time considering that Lewis' affections may go deeper than dramatic skill.

"And you know he cares 'bout ya.. came and visited ya when you were sick last year… brought ya flowers and all…" Becky prodded, tickling Colleen in the ribs excitedly.

"Aw… all right… all right… maybe I'll… I'll…" Colleen pouted her lips in a concentrated thought.

"Maybe you could see if he wants to have some… private rehearsals… before Saturday…" Becky giggled ecstatically.

"Becky! That's… that's… a really good idea…" Colleen raised her chin slightly, her cheeks tightening into an anticipatory smile.

"Told ya… 'sides you need something to look forward to… had a face as long as a stallion for weeks now… Gotta do some things you wanna do…" Becky turned her attention to her lunch tin, opened it and unwrapped her sandwich.

"Yeah… just everything's been goin' on at home… moving from one problem to the next… Becky…" Colleen cut her phrase off abruptly, hanging her head, wincing as she fought the moral dilemma before her.

"What…? What is it?" The young girl swallowed the food in her mouth, lowering the sandwich against her lunch tin and moving her head slowly towards her friend.

"Just… I don't know what to do… I… Becky… if… you knew someone was doin' somethin' that you thought was wrong… do you just let it happen… or try and say somethin'…" Colleen reached for the metal tin by her feet, opening it slowly and waiting for a response.

"Depends what it is… how wrong?" Becky pondered, taking another small bite from her sandwich.

"Real wrong… like… somethin' that's against God's will…" Colleen's teeth found the edge of her lower lip, her fingers clasping the corners of her lunch tin nervously.

"If it's somethin' that bad… then ya oughta tell the Reverend…" Becky's eyes lit up brightly, the petrified concern evidence in her blue eyes.

"I… I can't… ain't somethin' I can just talk about… It's… just somethin' I know is wrong." Colleen placed her lunch tin back on the ground by her feet, smoothing out her skirt over her knees; she'd lost her appetite.

"Then maybe ya oughta talk to the person who's doing it… Brian? Coz if it's Brian ya can just tell Dr. Mike, can't ya?" Becky finished her sandwich, the seriousness of Colleen's situation not having sunk in.

"Ain't Brian… but you're right, Becky… just gonna have to talk about it… have it out…" Colleen nodded thoughtfully, her gaze drifting off towards the nearby forest.

**X.O.X**

**Tuesday, 29****th**** August, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Brian, you've already had seven pancakes… you're gonna burst…" Colleen raised her left eyebrow, letting a soft sigh drift from her lips as she pulled the large china platter across the table, Brian eagerly emptying the contents onto his plate.

"Hey… there are other people at this table besides you… don't be so greedy…" The girl slapped her younger brother's arm softly, Matthew nodding in support. Brian leaned the fork against the edge of the dish, looking quickly around the table.

"Ma?" Brian offered, his reluctance more than obvious. Michaela took more than several moments to lift her head from her hand, and again another few seconds to comprehend his question before shrugging dismissively.

"You go ahead, sweetheart…" She smiled weakly, moving the fork unenthusiastically around the mostly untouched food still on her plate, having attempted to elude the older children by simply rearranging the eggs and bacon somewhat.

"First dress rehearsal tomorrow… Brian… you finally got that scene with Lewis down yet?" Colleen cut the piece of bacon neatly into several pieces, alternating her glance between her plate and her younger brother.

"Think so… just hope I don't accidentally kick him… like I did yesterday…" Brian covered his hand over his mouth, chuckling in childlike embarrassment, Colleen rolling her eyes, however a genuine smile breaking out across her face.

"What's this?" Matthew pulled the biscuit in half, chewing on a mouthful as he looked eagerly between his two siblings.

"This scene right near the end of the play… Brian and Lewis get into this fight… and Brian has to kick Lewis in the stomach to knock him down… except…" Colleen tightened her mouth, turning to Brian, just to embarrass him.

"Except… I ermm… missed…" Matthew watched Brian's face redden, the older boy breaking into uncontrollable fits of laughter, Colleen joining him immediately.

"You shoulda seen Lewis' face… he hit the ground, curled up in this tiny ball…" Colleen continued explaining the events from the rest of the rehearsal, all three children completely captivated by the painfully humorous anecdote, their laughter only encouraging Brian to continue talking.

Michaela looked slowly between each of her children's faces; she could see the sparkling of their eyes, and hear Matthew's hearty chuckle fill the room, knowing in that instant what she had to do. She couldn't bear to consider what such a scandal would do to the children she already had. Drawing a decisive breath, Michaela placed the fork down beside her plate; she knew what her only option was.

**X.O.X**

"Good afternoon, Horace…" Michaela stepped into the dim office, placing her hands delicately on the edge of the desk, waiting for him to finish the telegram he was writing.

"Afternoon Dr. Mike… ah… yes… just a…" He began fishing keenly through the newly arrived mail pouch, eventually finding the sought after envelope, displaying it proudly before her. "Yes… knew I had a letter for ya…" Michaela took the letter, paying little attention to the return address, having far more serious concerns at that moment.

"Thank-you. Um, Horace… I was wondering, might you… book me a seat on next Monday's stage…" Michaela folded the letter in her hands, Horace taking several moments to digest her words.

"Oh… sure… ah… goin' somewhere, Dr. Mike…?" He fumbled momentarily with some paper, moistening the pencil he'd just taken from behind his right ear, and scribbling the details down.

"I need to get some surgical supplies from Denver…" Michaela tapped her fingertips silently on the countertop, not appreciating the interrogation.

"Right… no problem, Dr. Mike… when you be wantin' the stage back?" Horace, looked up, assuming this would be a routine trip.

"I… ah… I'm not sure how long I'll be… ah… I'll organize it from there… Thank-you, Horace…" Michaela adjusted her weight awkwardly, her mouth going dry having just vocalized her decision for the first time.

"Not a problem, Dr. Mike… have a good day, now…" He smiled cheerfully, slipping the paper carefully into its ordered place on the desk.

**X.O.X**

"Somethin' I can help you with there…?" Loren rested his arm over the edge of the counter, watching as Sully strode aimlessly around the store, the Wolf sitting obediently by the front door.

"No… just lookin', Loren… waitin' for Dr. Mike to finish…" Sully gestured over towards the Clinic, his attention diverting back to the assortment of tools and other farming equipment along the back wall.

"If you're sure…" Loren nodded thoughtfully, his fingernails grazing against the wooden counter.

"Ah… Sully… well…" Loren looked around nervously, checking that Dorothy was still upstairs cleaning, before pacing around from behind the counter to cross the room. Sully's attention was obtained immediately by Loren's awkwardness.

"Somethin' on ya mind, Loren?" The younger man folded his arms tightly, seeing the store owner's forehead wrinkle into an uncomfortable frown.

"Now… you're gonna say it ain't my place and all… and maybe you're right… but… well... just haven't had a chance to… ah… speak to ya 'bout somethin' I felt was kinda important…" Loren's voice was becoming huskier, indicative of his ill ease.

"Loren… whatever it is… just…" Sully moved his arms forwards from his chest, shifting his weight to his right leg, sensing this was going to be a significant conversation.

"Well… people 'round here been… talkin'… ya know… I mean… on the surface it don't seem like nothin'… but workin' in here every day… you get to hear things… well, anyway. I was just… wonderin'… you and Dr. Mike… Dorothy was mumblin' some nonsense at me a while back… and ah… thing is… ah… suppose I was just wantin' to put a stop to all the talk…" Loren pushed his hands deep into his trouser pockets, thoroughly uncomfortable about having to have this conversation with the man who was once his son-in-law.

"What rumors, Loren?" Sully's eyes grew heavy and dark, immediately preparing himself to jump to whosever defense was necessary.

"'Bout you… and… Dr. Mike… You still serious 'bout marryin' her?" Loren looked away, having eventually managed to get the question out.

Sully scuffed his feet along the ground for several moments, trying to decide on a course of action, before realizing he had nothing to hide. "Sound like you reckon I oughtn't be?"

Loren let the lids of his eyes drop down ever so slightly, his hands reappearing from his pockets and extending forwards in denial.

"Aw, I ain't sayin' that… just, well, suppose it'd be best if it's you, ain't it…" The older man hung his head thoughtfully. Realizing that his final remark had the potential to cause offence, he quickly continued: "Just what with all the gossip 'round here… think it'd be worth… considering… Now, I know it's none a my business, but… I care… 'bout Dr. Mike… don't like havin' to hear all the snide remarks, 'bout her bein' shamed… and don't like seein' the way all the women huddle together, feelin' sorry for her… actin' like she ain't ever gonna be able to have a normal life again…" Loren sighed heavily, coughing slightly to distract from the emotion that had overcome him.

Sully moved his head only a fraction of an inch to the right, his eyes darting uncertainly between Loren's downcast face and the floor, struggling to make sense of the older man's motivation.

"You don't have to worry 'bout that, Loren… I'm doin' what I can… just takes time… ain't somethin' she's ready for just yet… not sure I am either…" Sully blinked several times, at a loss to where the conversation seemed to be going.

"I know… you marryin' Abigail weren't what I wanted at the time… I... I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to… ah… let you know that I… I knew you made her very happy. That's probably what I resented the most… Before you… my little girl only looked up to me… I was… the person she came cryin' to when she'd… skin her knee… when some lout'd pull her hair…" Loren had stopped attempting to control the moisture slowly trickling from his eyes. "I weren't ready to stop being the one she turned to… Suppose what I'm tryin' to say is… maybe weren't just that she married you… was probably just that I lost her… and then… I lost her before I had the chance to find her again…" Loren's fingers clenched against his hands, Sully taking a step forwards to rest his arm supportively on the older man's shoulder, their heads lowered in a long, reflective silence.

Sully remained quiet, his thoughts having paralleled Loren's but with a very different connotation.

"Understand, Loren… I… I think I understood that a long time ago. But you don't gotta feel like you needa protect Dr. Mike like you wanted to Abigail…" Sully watched Loren pull the handkerchief from his vest, dabbing absently at the remnants of tears on his face.

"I know… I know it ain't the same… but… still don't like havin' to stand by… And… I know she's gotta be findin' it tough… 'course she's too proud to admit it… but… think any woman'd… want her father around when she's hurtin'. Think it's only natural, no matter how old you are…" Loren saw the empathy on Sully's face, pulling himself together quickly and straightening his vest habitually.

"You're right… but we're there, Loren… We're all doin' what we can… Between me, the children… Dorothy, Olive, you… Michaela knows she's got a family here… she knows this is her home." Sully looked up momentarily to see the door of the Clinic open, gesturing his hand in that direction, Loren turned, the two men watching in silence as Michaela stepped onto the porch.

"Here…" Loren turned away, seeing Colleen and Brian come running from the schoolhouse.

Turning and taking several steps back to the counter, he busied himself in slipping some gumdrops and licorice buttons into a piece of brown paper, handing it to Sully.

"Boy's the closest thing I'll ever get to a grandson…" Loren smiled, gazing into the distance as Brian engulfed Michaela in a tight hug, Sully nodding, before doing likewise, the two men breaking apart after several moments.

"And you're the closest thing Michaela's got to a father, now… Time for things to start over, wouldn't you say?" Sully tapped his thigh, the Wolf running to his side.

"I'd surely say so…" Loren whispered, Sully and the Wolf making their way out onto the porch of the store, the older man watching the gathering continue, Brian's face lighting up when Sully presented him with the candy.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

"Come on, just one more…. Please….?" Brian begged excitedly as Michaela and Colleen finished the dishes.

Sully looked up questioningly; stroking the Wolf's head, the animal remaining comfortably sprawled in front of the fireplace.

"One more… then it's time for bed…" Michaela sighed, Colleen quickly taking the stack of plates from her.

"Go on… sit with Brian…" The young girl kept her voice hushed, having spent the evening shadowing Michaela, taking laundry, water buckets, and now crockery from her every chance she got. She might not have the courage to confront her about it directly, but she could certainly watch her every move indirectly.

"Which song ya wanna sing now, Brian?" Sully smiled, as Michaela took her seat beside him, the young boy deep in thought, deliberately pondering the question, so as to draw out the time before he would have to go to bed.

"How about…. about… Old MacDonald…" Brian sat, the chair turned backwards against the edge of the table, Matthew sitting opposite him, rolling his eyes with a sigh.

"Aw, Brian…" The older boy cringed, this only encouraging Brian further, launching into immediate song.

"Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O…" Brian commenced, Sully very quietly humming along under his breath; singing was not his strong point.

"And on his farm he had a cow, E-I-E-I-O" Colleen finished stacking the plates back on the shelf, removing her apron and folding it neatly as she took her seat near Matthew.

"With a moo-moo here… and a moo-moo there…" Brian puckered his lips his cheeks, inflating as he made mooing noises at everyone.

"Here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moo-moo, Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O…" Sully raised an eyebrow at the one person who had still refused to join in the singing.

"Your turn… a horse…" Sully smirked in Michaela's direction, who responded by rolling her eyes and reluctantly opening her mouth.

"Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O… And on his farm he had a horse, E-I-E-I-O…" Michaela blushed, bringing her hands to her face, Brian giggling in encouragement.

"Go on, Ma… ya gotta do the 'neigh'…" Brian pushed his chair closer towards the table, his excitement bubbling across the room.

"With a 'neigh' here… and a 'neigh' there…" Michaela dropped her voice to a non-pitched utterance, at each "neigh", Sully clapping his hands, not convinced.

"Nah… I'm sorry… that don't sound like no horse I've ever heard… anyone think that sounded like a horse?" Sully teased, the three children giggling in agreement.

"Nope… come on Ma, you can do a proper 'neigh'… neeeeeiighhhh" Brian took a deep breath, shaking his head as he demonstrated a more 'horse-sounding' neigh.

"Neeiiighh…" Michaela repeated, mimicking her son more enthusiastically. Sully flashed an approving smile, reaching discreetly under the table to take her hand, Michaela gesturing for everyone to complete the verse together.

"With a neigh here, and a neigh there, here a neigh, there a neigh, everywhere a neigh-neigh, With a moo here, and a moo there, here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moo-moo, Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O…" Colleen looked from Matthew to Brian as the five of them finished the second verse, Michaela butting in quickly before Brian had the chance.

"All right, mister, that-don't-sound-like-no-horse-I've-ever-heard … it's your turn…" she coerced, feeling his fingers slide over the back of her hand.

Colleen smiled as Sully shrugged confidently, looking around the room for a moment before clearing his throat and beginning the third verse.

"Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O… And on his farm he had a wolf, E-I-E-I-O…" Sully tapped his knee under the table, the Wolf raising his head and getting to his feet.

"With a…" Sully turned quickly, directing the animal into a long, high-pitched howl, this continuing as he worked through the song. "And a… there. Here a…, there a…, everywhere a…" Brian had begun rocking back and forth on his turned around chair, his childlike glee at it's pinnacle, as the Wolf obediently vocalized each howl.

Michaela's jaw widened, feeling somewhat cheated.

"You can't just get Wolf to… not after you made me…" She was flabbergast in her objection. Sully turned the corner of his mouth up, continuing to chuckle under his breath.

"I don't needa howl like a Wolf… brought my own…" His tongue moved against the insides of his cheeks, knowing exactly how self-righteously Michaela would react, and relishing every moment of it.

"With a neigh here, and a neigh there, here a neigh, there a neigh, everywhere a neigh-neigh, With a moo here, and a moo there, here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moo-moo, Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O…" Brian, Colleen and Matthew finished the song, Michaela having recovered from her slight humiliation.

"Right… time for bed…" She watched Brian's face drop predictably, the young boy slouching in his chair. Matthew sensed the routine bedtime aversion immediately, wishing everyone a good night and heading for the barn.

"Do I gotta… Sully's still here…" He moaned, Colleen standing and pushing her chair back under the table, going to Michaela's defense instantly.

"That don't make any difference… Sully's older than you…" The young girl directed her brother towards his bed, Michaela turning her head swiftly at the girl's assistance.

"Thank-you, Colleen…" She muttered genuinely, the young girl shrugging the gratitude off, having ulterior motives.

"Sooner he gets to bed, you get to bed…" She held her gaze just long enough for Michaela to work through her meaning.

"I'll… ah… see you in the morning…" Michaela turned back to efficiently rearrange the disordered chairs neatly back under the table, Sully looking between the children's departing forms and back to Michaela.

"Since when's she gotten all over protective?" Sully crossed his arms, Michaela leading them out towards the front porch, Sully settling himself down on the porch, tapping the step lightly to his right.

"Oh… just… since the weekend. With Brian being so upset…" Michaela quickly tried to dismiss the issue. Taking her seat beside him, Michaela sensed what was coming.

"And what about you? Ankle all better…" He teasingly reached for the hem of her skirt, Michaela baulking from his familiarity, settling her hands deceptively in her lap.

"It's… fine," she replied curtly, her mind wandering as she gazed out into the dark surroundings.

Sully nodded, sliding several inches towards her, his left hand settling on her right shoulder, moving his chin forwards slightly to nuzzle her neck.

"Sully," she objected automatically, visibly shrinking from his touch.

"Sorry… I… thought…" He looked her up and down curiously, aware that privacy was more of an issue now; however, they had that.

"I… I'm sorry…" She let her breathing regulate for several moments, feeling torn between emotional desires and physical precautions.

"Michaela… don't gotta be sorry… you've been sayin' that for days now… If you wanna wait… we'll wait. Just gotta tell me…" Sully took her left hand again in his right, Michaela felt the tingling return to her arms.

"I don't… it's not that… it's… Sully… when you told Brian we were… courting again… I… when you talked about us having a future… did you mean…" She felt his finger brush against her lips softly, his eyes sparkling as he answered her.

"Michaela, what I said to both you and Brian, I meant. I don't want you frettin' about what's going to happen tomorrow, next week, next year… all that's important… is _now_. Right here." He trailed his fingertips over the smooth skin on the back on her hand, Michaela looking from their joined hands back out into the night sky.

"But I can't help worrying… about… what's going to happen… I feel like I can't predict one day ahead of myself any longer… and it… scares me…" Michaela knew they were talking about totally different things. However, she also knew, she had to attend to one problem at a time; she could pick up the pieces after she arrived home, that would be the easy part.

"I know… but you don't gotta worry about you and me… I ain't goin' nowhere… and I ain't wantin' to rush into anythin'… until you're ready…" Sully felt Michaela's arm brush his, realizing quite to his surprise that she'd closed the gap between them.

"How… how do I know?" She shook her head slightly, feeling his shoulder press against hers, feeling the warmth from his skin radiate through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"You'll know… you'll just…" Sully turned, realizing she'd been studying the closeness of his shoulder to hers, his eyes finding hers, as he rotated his upper body, severing the physical contact that had previously existed.

Michaela felt her mouth move, slightly dismayed as his shoulder pulled away from hers. Studying his serenely content expression, she felt the warmth of his breath strike her cheek, not realizing the increasing sensation was due to the fact that his mouth was drawing slowly towards her own.

From the instant his soft, moist lips brushed over her own, Michaela responded. Without conscious control she moved her mouth against his, falling into familiarity as she drew a calm breath. Opening her mouth as she felt his lips tighten tenderly around her own, Michaela was aware of his hands gripping her shoulders securely, before she felt his lips leave her mouth, traveling blindly towards her chin. His fingers caressed her flesh through the thin fabric of her pale blue blouse, neither hearing anything but the sound of rushing air.

Michaela willed the tension from her shoulders, a small moan passing from her mouth, as she felt his lips continue on their path downwards, nibbling lightly on the skin over her jawbone, before continuing down along her neck, where the tip of his nose brushed against her right ear lobe.

"I…" She felt his words being reiterated through the sensitivity and precision of his movements, and in that moment, Michaela could almost completely dismiss the reality of life as it was. For in that single moment, his lip tucked under her ear, his nose moving over the fine wisps of hair from the edge of her hairline, the events of the last six months were obliterated. Just as she let her head sink backwards, aware of his head pressing closer into her neck, Michaela felt his hand move on her left shoulder.

His right hand slipping slowly downwards from her shoulder, quickly brought reality crashing down around her, aware of the heaviness of his hand moving from her shoulder down towards her chest.

In what was a mere fraction of a second, Michaela forgot instantly the pleasures of the previous several minutes, pulling back defensively against the physical intrusion, a single word slipping from her lips.

"Don't…" She felt her eyelids flutter open, everything around her changing in a heartbeat. Her breathing shallow, she felt his hands leave her, his head pulling away from her neck, the air from his mouth growing cooler as the distance was returned between them.

"Michaela…" Sully's voice was hollow, the indescribable regret surmounting from his heart.

"Don't apologize, I couldn't bear that… you weren't to know…" She gripped the flowing material of her skirt, seeing the dark blue material scrunch up between her pale fingers.

"Just… gonna take time…" He responded, concerned by the energy she was exerting upon her skirt.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't…" Michaela chastised herself for pulling away, self-loathing clouding her mind, before a single definite statement, paralleled itself with his right hand on her left.

"No. This is not your fault. It is not either of our faults…" Sully declared, the strength of his words coming not from volume, but from physical connection with the breath in his lungs.

The pair remained silent for several moments, Michaela replaying his words over and over in her head. She knew he was right. And he was right about more than he knew. However, being right or wrong did not change anything; Michaela knew they were the ones left to rebuild their lives; and the attainment of the future they'd promised each other rested solely in her hands.

**X.O.X**

**Wednesday, 30****th**** August, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela felt her hand glide over the rough edge of the door as she closed it, her last patient for the day having just departed.

Briskly crossing the room, she filed all the patients' charts from that day, and returned to her desk, idly neatening various items, waiting until she knew she was alone. Pushing the chair back slightly, Michaela opened the shallow drawer in front of her, the still-sealed envelope she'd received the day before rested harmlessly atop a pile of unsorted papers.

Gingerly pulling the immaculately sealed envelope from the drawer, Michaela fumbled to open it, her eyes scanning over the long, precisely-written letter, seeing only fragments of sentences and the odd word, before she took a breath and forced herself to read the contents slowly from the beginning:

_Dear Madam,_

_You ask me to put in requisition my medical and surgical knowledge and skill for the purpose of producing a premature birth of the infant you suppose you are carrying, and its consequent death._

_Were such a procedure admissible under any circumstances, this is too flimsy a plea to afford even a decent excuse, much less a justification, for so grave a procedure. In putting forward such an excuse, are you not ignoring the demands of duty, and pleading the most intense and unmitigated selfishness as a justification for destroying life?_

_As a medical man, I know that no such work can be done, either by medical or surgical means, without endangering health or life. However skillfully the work may be done, health or life is always imperiled. The whole proceeding is utterly unnatural, and Nature is sure to be revenged on those who trample on her laws. What, then, do you ask me to do? Simply to become accessory to an act which I know may make you an invalid for life; that may send you forth a maimed and miserable woman; or that may send you into the presence of your maker unbidden._

_To bring the thing down to its essence, what are you asking me to do, when clothed in plain English? Simply to kill your own child! Is not this murder, in the view of the Decalogue, which says, "Thou shalt not kill"? The thing has all the characteristics of willful and deliberate murder. In the first place there is a premeditated destruction of life; in the next it is an individual life - it is also a human life. Should I acquiesce in your purpose, and lend you my aid and assistance, it would be a deliberate, premeditated, killing of a human being._

_I know, indeed, that men, to silence their own consciences, and bring their minds to consent to the horrible work, endeavor to make themselves believe that the child in utero is not a human life till after what is termed quickening has taken place. But if it is not a human life from the very moment when the ovulum and the spermatozoa unite and attach themselves to the uterine walls, and commence development and growth, what is it? If it is not a living thing, how could it attach itself to the walls of the uterus, draw nourishment from the mother and grow? Dead matter does not do such things as this. Now, if it has life, what kind of life is it? What but human life? Surely it can be nothing but the most shallow sophistry that can attempt to defend the idea that the destruction of the child in utero, at any and every stage of its intra-uterine life, is not the killing of a human being!_

_I trust my words will provide you with the necessary clarification, and terminate whatever lingering doubt there may be in your mind. The needless destruction of a living human being is undisputable murder, and I would hold in the utmost contempt any woman who might bring herself to endanger her own life in the attempted commission of such a disgraceful crime._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Dr. Horatio Robinson Storer, M.D._

Michaela felt the fine paper slip from her fingers, suddenly realizing just how much of the Bostonian sophistication and abruptness she had forgotten. Her moral upbringing and ethical training only served to reinforce that everything contained within the letter was true; in wanting this child dead she was indeed contemplating the greatest mortal sin she knew of...

The crisp paper crumpled in her fingers, Michaela turned at the sound of children being dismissed from school. Her attention directed through the window facing onto the street, Michaela didn't hear the gentle knock at the door, her thoughts many miles away until she reacted instinctively to a familiar sound.

"Hey… Ma… Ma?" Brian slipped into the room, clunking his books on the corner of her desk, arriving at her side, before Michaela had fully comprehended his presence.

"Afternoon, Brian… how… how was school?" Michaela folded the letter up quickly, and slipped it back into the drawer of her desk before closing it and rising to her feet.

"Was all right… Colleen said to tell you she needs to stay back a bit… she and Lewis are still rehearsin'… can we go over see Mr. Bray?" Brian reached eagerly for her wrist, Michaela struggling to take-in the information he was imparting upon her; the boy's uncultured, down-to-earth dialect a far cry from the more 'civilized' language she'd just been processing.

"Ma?" Brian repeated somewhat more impatiently, as he pulled on her arm once again, Michaela frowning in disorientation, merely following behind him, as he led her out onto the porch and towards the store.


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

"Look, Ma… see… this one you can open the roof and see all the people sittin' inside… and…" Brian held the heavy metal train up in front of her, Michaela nodding with feigned interest before glancing back towards the main street, Colleen still not having met them after rehearsals.

"And that one, Brian… see that one's just the train driver… driving the train…" Loren took the other toy from the shelf, spinning the wheels and capturing the child's interest.

"Aww… and look... you can connect them together…" Brian set the two objects down on the countertop, Michaela folding her arms with a fed up sigh.

"Brian, you stay here… I'm going to get your sister…" Michaela paced across the store, shaking her head as she made her way out onto the porch and along the street, disappearing from view.

"Look, Mr. Bray… see… _whoo-whoo_… watch out… train's comin'… train's comin'…" The boy giggled, continuing to circle the carriages around the wooden countertop.

"You better stop… let the passengers get off… look… think some more want to get on…" Loren reached into the glass jar and prized out a stick of licorice, carefully molding two small pieces into 'people', and placing them on the edge of the counter.

"Oh… right… all aboard… all aboard…" Brian opened the green carriage, neatly plopping the additions into their seats, Loren distracting the boy with the remainder of the stick of licorice.

"Thanks, Mr. Bray…" The boy chewed enthusiastically on the candy, before setting the train off again, around and around the countertop.

**X.O.X**

"But I can give you so much… what has he to offer? I can give you the finest home, the richest jewels, we can travel… to the end of the earth my dear…" Lewis clasped his hand across his heart slightly over-dramatically, Colleen chuckling and shaking her head, having thoroughly enjoyed the last half an hour or so in his company.

"You can't do that… it's not like this is Shakespeare… um… here… take my hand… and… I can take a step towards you… like this…" Colleen felt her cheeks flush, as Lewis slowly entwined his fingers within hers, each taking a step closer so that they bumped together slightly more forcefully than either had intended.

"S-sorry…" Lewis cleared his throat, although not letting go of Colleen's hand.

"Um… ah…" Colleen racked her brain desperately for her next line. "But it is not jewels, nor a fine home that is of greatest importance… for they are fleeting, and provide of immediate enjoyment… what good is the largest house, if there is not laughter within… the most stunning jewels, if they are not given out of love…" The young girl struggled to follow each of her lines together, barely able to concentrate as she felt Lewis' chest press against her shoulder.

"But I have told you of my love… why, only moments ago, I knelt… I confessed to you my love… I asked for your hand…" Lewis lowered his eyes to hers, both knowing they were drawing closer towards the climax of the play… having rehearsed it several times before, although never alone.

"Love is not only a word… love is a commitment… to truly love someone, you must prove this love each day, through your actions… It is what is in your heart that speaks the loudest, not the material possessions you may offer," Colleen felt his fingers slip from hers, Lewis' left arm sliding from her shoulder to her upper arm, as he stepped away.

"Then I will go…" he announced in dignified defeat, Colleen reaching for the sleeve of his shirt.

"Wait… so that I may be sure… kiss me once… then go…" she smiled coyly, the young adults struggling to remain in character and disguise the mutual affection they felt for the other.

Colleen swallowed, feeling her lips meet dryly as he stepped back towards her. The nervous excitement between them caused each to move awkwardly. Lewis rested his arms shakily on her shoulders, Colleen fixing her eyes on his as his face drew closer and closer towards hers. The tingling anxiousness caused her breathing to rise in her chest, the young girl letting her eyes drop closed as she felt his lips upon her own. The darkness behind her eyes was matched only by the pin drop silence around then, Colleen feeling as if it may last forever.

"_Colleen!_" The silence was broken in an instant by a shrill, contemptuous holler.

Her eyelids fluttering open as Lewis' lips left her mouth, the young girl recognized the voice, her hands gripping the sides of her skirt as Lewis pulled away from her side, his face flushed in guilty remorse.

"We were… we were only…" Colleen licked her lips, Michaela remaining with her fists clenched by her side in furious disapproval.

"D-Dr. Mike, it w-weren't… I mean…" Lewis stuttered in equal embarrassment.

"Brian tells me you were rehearsing… so I come over here… and… Colleen… I…" Michaela unclenched her hands and rested them firmly around her waist before turning and storming back outside.

"I… I'm sorry... Lewis… I have to go… I'll see you… tomorrow…" Colleen brushed the mortified boy's arm softly, before rolling her eyes and following Michaela outside and down the steps, Colleen immediately jumping to her own defense as they began their brisk stride back towards town.

"Dr. Mike… you had no right to overreact like that! We were rehearsing. It's in the play!" Colleen ran down the porch steps, struggling to keep up with Michaela.

"Oh… and I suppose you expect me to believe that? I'm surprised at you, Colleen… I thought you knew better," Michaela turned slightly to address the girl, before quickly recommencing her angered pace.

"Ask the Reverend if you don't believe me… and what do you mean, 'knew better'… was only a kiss… I'm old enough… I'm fourteen, almost fifteen… some girls a gettin' married only a few years older than me…" Colleen raised an eyebrow in retaliation.

"Well that has absolutely nothing to do with you… what were you thinking… being alone with him like that…" Michaela gestured her right hand back towards the schoolhouse, irrational rage threatening to boil over.

"It's Lewis… It's Lewis, Dr. Mike… he's my _friend._ And I happen to like him… ain't nothin' wrong with that… just coz you…" Colleen took a breath quickly, stopping herself immediately, realizing it wasn't fair to dig up the past to win an argument.

"Even if you were old enough to be seeing a young man, it's still not appropriate to be… alone… like that… no matter how you may feel about him… What if it hadn't of been me to see you… what if… what if… Dorothy… or… the Reverend… or anyone for that matter… it isn't what you were or weren't doing, Colleen… it's what it looks like…" Michaela softened her voice slightly, only trying to protect her daughter's reputation.

"You're a fine one to lecture me anyway… when you're doing the exact same thing… hidin' the truth… how'd you feel if the Reverend knew what you were doin'… In fact, let's go ask him, shall we? See what he says is gonna look worse in God's eyes… a quick kiss in a schoolroom… or tryin' to kill an innocent little baby…" Colleen squinted her eyes tightly, sick of tip-toeing around the truth.

Michaela looked around them instinctively, as if to ensure no-one had heard. By that stage, the pair had arrived by the edge of the bridge, Michaela choosing her words carefully as she rested her arms over the edge of the railing, looking down at the cool water trickling along underneath.

"How did you know?" she whispered, realizing that refusing to talk with the young girl, would only force her to confide in someone else.

"I… I don't know… just… puttin' everything together. Knew you ain't had a monthly… and you were faintin'. Then last weekend when Brian saw you gettin' changed, he saw…" Colleen was cut off when Michaela, a horrified expression on her face, turned back to her.

"Brian… Brian knows?" Michaela's voice cracked in her throat slightly, Colleen shrugging her shoulders noncommittally; if Michaela thought she was under more pressure, maybe that would help her face up to the situation.

"Dr. Mike… how long did you think you could just… hide something like this…" The young girl shook her head in bewilderment, slowly taking two steps closer to Michaela on the bridge.

"I… I don't know… I thought… at first I didn't want to believe it… and then… I thought it wasn't true… by the time I realized it was… I… I was hoping… that perhaps I could… take care of things." Michaela's voice was crisp, her last sentence drawing Colleen's response immediately.

"But it's wrong, Dr. Mike. I never would have thought you'd think that way... doesn't the... the oath you took, specifically say you ain't allowed to," Colleen scrunched up her nose thoughtfully, her arms folded on top of the railing.

Michaela dropped her head slightly, before turning to her left, Colleen looking curiously for a response.

"It's not… as simple as I thought it would be, Colleen. Believe me, I felt exactly the same way as you… I couldn't understand it… but… when it's real… when it's really happening… it's not the same. It's not fair on anyone, you, Brian. Think what people will say." Michaela pushed a wisp of hair behind her right ear, Colleen folding her arms tightly across her chest confidently.

"So? I don't care what people say… neither will Brian… you know he won't. You shoulda heard the way he defended you. No-one's gonna think this was your fault, Ma… No-one. Not even Sully…" Colleen took a step closer to Michaela's side, seeing the tears build behind her eyes.

The pair regarded each other for several moments, Colleen seeing the fear in Michaela's eyes, Michaela seeing the compassion in the young girl's.

"I'm sorry, Ma…" She reached her arms out, expecting Michaela to merely take her hands, or even to turn away from her out of pride. Colleen did not expect Michaela to step towards her and permit the comforting embrace that followed.

Colleen secured her arms around Michaela's back, gazing back towards the main street as she felt Michaela's hands tighten around her shoulders.

"You won't… say anything?" Michaela whispered, still trying to comprehend that she had shared this nightmare with anyone, least of all her fourteen year-old daughter.

"Ma… you're gonna have to…" Colleen felt the exasperated words leave her mouth; how long did her mother think she could hide this?

"I know… I just… need some time. I… I need to tell Sully, first… then we'll decide… what…" Michaela trailed off, not able to carry on the deception any further through words she knew were meaningless. She'd made up her mind days ago.

"All right, Ma… I promise…" Colleen felt Michaela pull away from the hug, the girl dropping her hands back to her sides, Michaela doing likewise.

"I'm sorry about…" Michaela gestured to the schoolhouse, "I overreacted… I just… when I saw you… I…" Michaela shrugged her concern off, Colleen taking her right hand and nodding in understanding.

"I know, Ma… but it really was just for the play… and… I trust Lewis... but… won't be rehearsing by ourselves anymore," Colleen reassured her mother, the two locking eyes in understanding and recommencing their journey back towards the store.

**X.O.X**

**Saturday, 2****nd**** September, 1869**

_**Three Days Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Settle down, Brian… he'll be here… you know he will…" Colleen ran the brush through her precisely styled hair, before turning to her right and pulling her brother back from the curtain.

"Aww…" He protested, before quickly distracting himself in fidgeting with the gray suit he was wearing.

"Stop it, will ya… just… relax. Ya know Sully wouldn't miss seeing this for anything…" Colleen placed the brush down near the rest of her clothes, looking around at other members of their class in various states of dressing.

"Hey… Colleen… think Ma and Sully'll figure it out…?" Brian giggled lightly, taking her brush and smoothing out his own blond hair.

"Figure what out?" Colleen rearranged the fancy skirt and jacket she'd been made, reaching for the delicate hat to complete her costume.

"That it's… about them… that you're really Ma… and I'm Sully… and Lewis is… what's his name? That guy? Asked Ma to marry him…" The young boy chuckled, helping Colleen pin her hat straight on her head.

"William, Brian… How'd you figure that out? Thought only Becky and I knew that…" Colleen had realized the script had taken certain deviations into real life many months ago whilst they were writing it.

"Nah… Steven and me figured it out, too… except you're not a doctor… and I'm not… well… sure don't look like Sully, do I?" Brian patted his tailored suit proudly.

"Brian… I don't think anyone's going to figure it out… weren't meant to be that obvious… if I were you, I'd be more worried about making sure you don't hurt Lewis again… remember… foot in the _stomach_, Brian…" Colleen rolled her eyes, their last dress rehearsal having still not gone to plan.

"I'll try Colleen… this is excitin'… reckon Ma and Sully'll enjoy it?" Brian's chirpy voice carried off enthusiastically once again, Colleen shaking her head as she smoothed out the jacket over her stomach.

"They'll love it, Brian… come on, nearly time to start…" She noticed the Reverend gather the children together, hushed giggles of anticipation sweeping through the small crowd as they waited in the wings.

**X.O.X**

"Don't worry, Dr. Mike… you know he'll be here…" Matthew brushed her shoulder lightly, seeing Michaela glance frantically around the meadow, Sully having still not arrived.

"If he misses this… Brian'll be crushed…" Michaela clasped her hands in her lap, readjusting her feet underneath her; she couldn't get comfortable.

"Ain't gonna happen…" Matthew smiled dismissively, glancing back over at Ingrid on his right, slipping an arm around her waist, the pair amusing themselves watching a small group of young children chase each other around a picnic rug.

Michaela followed the young couple's gaze, frowning as she moved her gaze from the young children to fellow townspeople; Grace and Robert E. popping pieces of pie into each other's mouths, Dorothy and Jake holding hands and chatting quietly, her eyes landing lastly on Horace and Myra, her head in his lap as he teasingly walked his fingers around her still-flat stomach, before placing a tender kiss on the tip of her nose.

Unknowingly, Michaela dropped her gaze downwards, quickly fanning out her skirt again, in a futile attempt to stop it bunching suggestively around her waist.

"Don't tell me Brian was right…" Sully's light-hearted voice jostled Michaela immediately from her preoccupation.

"Excuse me?" She blinked, having not heard enough of his statement to be able to comprehend it.

"Brian going on, thinking you're worried about your weight… women…" Sully chuckled under his breath, catching Matthew's eye and smiling a quick greeting towards Ingrid as he settled himself down on the rug.

"He… he'll be glad you've finally arrived. Caught him peeking out from behind the curtain a few moments ago… where've you been?" Michaela spoke quickly, her irritable mood only escalating when she took in Sully's previous reply.

"Huntin' deer with Cloud Dancin'… ended up having to go out further than we thought… sorry I'm late…" Sully's eye brows dropped sensing her prickly mood immediately.

"It's not me you have to apologize to…" Michaela adjusted her seating once again, the dull ache returning to her lower back. Sitting on the hard ground for the next hour, being the last thing she felt like doing.

"Michaela, I'm here all right? What… what's wrong?" He saw the disgruntled expression sweep across her face, taking in her jilted movements, reaching an arm to her shoulder.

"Will you… just… nothing…" Michaela shrugged off the physical contact, her annoyance being displayed in more than clear detail.

"Right…" Sully sighed, resolutely returning his right arm to the rug beside him, bringing his knees to his chest, everyone's attention being diverted to the newly constructed stage, as the Reverend hushed the crowd.

**X.O.X**

"But Margaret, you can't possibly be serious about marrying such a man… after all… what can he provide for you… Why won't you reconsider Walter's proposal, he's a stable, influential man… not some charlatan." Becky delivered her lines in the most dignified and posh manner she could manage, Colleen sitting beside her on the elegant velvet-padded chair.

"But, Mother… I don't love Walter… what good is money… and security… if I'm not happy…" Colleen carefully slipped the lacy white gloves onto her hands.

"What does happiness have to do with anything… love is a decision…" Becky rose from the chair, their conversation having drawn to an end.

"Is it just me… or have I heard this conversation before?" Sully pulled his lips into an amused grin, leaning closer towards Michaela ensuring she'd heard his question.

"Sully… be quiet…" She dismissed him immediately, letting her eyes drop closed momentarily, the aching in her back becoming almost intolerable.

"No-one heard… 'sides… I think these children've been up to something…" he continued, having no way of knowing just how fragile Michaela's emotions were at that precise moment.

**X.O.X**

"Ah… um… was thinkin'… ah… you… ah…. Might want to maybe… come back… to Cactus Springs… with me…" Brian turned, gripping his hands nervously behind his back, as he struggled to keep a straight face, the audience erupting into bemused chuckles.

"I… I could never do that… it's not proper… not without us… at least…" Colleen smoothed her long satin ball gown out around her, her cheeks blushing; aware of the boldness of her response.

"Oh… of course…" Bran cleared his throat, pulling up the leg of his right trouser leg and kneeling slowly before her.

"Margaret… it would… ah… I mean… ah… will you marry me…?" Brian curled the corner of his mouth up slightly, throwing a suggestive look in Michaela and Sully's direction.

Colleen glared down at him momentarily, seeing his quick glance over his shoulder. She knew her brother was more than aware of the underlying similarities of the play, however had hoped he'd have shown a greater degree of tact.

"Oh, Sammy…. I… I… of course I will," Colleen replied, Brian rising back to his feet and reaching for her hands.

"Now this… I'm liking…" Sully winked in the boy's direction, watching as the sibling's heads met in a very awkward, but nonetheless sweet kiss, the audience clapping loudly in warm support.

"Aww, that's it… I didn't get down on one knee, did I?" Sully couldn't contain his boyish silliness any longer, Matthew leaning across the small distance towards them, addressing Sully.

"I think someone's having a little joke with you two…" Matthew pursed his lips, Sully chuckling under his breath.

"Think I understand now why those children been keepin' this so quiet…" Sully continued clapping, the audience all getting to their feet as the children gathered on the stage for their final bows.

Michaela sighed, refusing to comment, wearily pulling herself to her feet, as the applause continued.

"Michaela…" Sully brushed her arm, pointing forwards as Brian poked his head around the curtain waving frantically at them.

Michaela smiled weakly, her eyes moving from the excited children on stage, around to the enthusiastic townspeople. Dorothy's eyes locking with hers for a brief moment; Michaela severed the contact immediately, resting her gaze on the corner of the rug, before summoning the necessary energy to plaster a fresh smile on her face, glancing back towards the stage. She knew her departure would crush the children; however she knew in her heart that staying would only cause further damage.

"I'm just glad Brian finally sorted out that fight scene…" Matthew whispered, relieved that his younger brother hadn't publicly wounded poor Lewis in such a sensitive area.

"Still reckon I've seen a lot of that before…" Sully widened his smile, taking a step closer to Michaela, expecting her to snap out of whatever mood she appeared to be in.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

"Ma… Ma… did you see me, did you see?" Brian hurtled down from the stage, the class scattering into their respective families around the meadow.

"Of course, sweetheart. You were brilliant," Michaela caught his arms, diverting the unwanted physical contact.

"And I didn't stuff up any lines…" The young boy boasted proudly.

"And you didn't hurt Lewis…" Colleen interjected immediately, unpinning her hat, and fixing up the stray pieces of her fringe.

"Was terrific, Brian… we loved it…" Sully patted the boy's back encouragingly.

"Sure, did, little brother…" Matthew ruffled his younger brother's hair, before turning back to Ingrid, slipping an arm around her waist with a contented smile.

"Oh… and just so you know… didn't wanna have to kiss her… but the Reverend said since we were gettin' married… needed to right at the end…" Brian folded his arms seriously, deeming it of great importance that everyone around him understood the motive behind his quick kiss with Colleen.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with that… she's ya sister…" Sully reassured, Colleen arriving awkwardly by Michaela's side, everyone looking back towards the stage as the Reverend clapped his hands to get their attention.

"Ladies, and gentlemen… boys and girls… I think after that fantastic performance… the children must all have a lot to talk about… so I propose we move over to Grace's, to enjoy our supper… once again, I would like to thank everyone for their hard work in making today such an overwhelming success…" Timothy slowly climbed down the steps to the side of the stage, Olive appearing by his stage with a warm smile.

"Was a marvelous play, Reverend… you wouldn't be tryin' to encourage a certain couple together by any chance, would you?" Olive grinned, the play being anything less than subtle to her match-making eye.

"Don't you go looking at me, Olive… was the children who wrote it… if you ask me… Colleen and Brian got their hearts set on those two gettin' married…" the Reverend dusted his black hat off, before placing it securely onto his head.

"I know… bless 'em… think that might be overreaching a bit now… doubt that Dr. Mike'll ever…" Olive shrugged, both of them subconsciously setting eyes on the aforementioned family, Timothy nodding slowly in reflection.

"Yeah… maybe you're right…" He muttered, quickly forcing himself into distraction, taking Olive's arm as the pair made their way towards the main street.

**X.O.X**

"Right, come on… still got lots a meatloaf and biscuits, can't be lettin' it go to waste now…" Grace tapped the metal spoon down on the edge of the oven tray, several townspeople gathering around her to refill their plates with food.

"Can I get some more?" Brian looked down at his plate, carefully pushing the uneaten vegetables into a smaller, squashed pile.

"Sure," Sully replied quickly, looking up when he heard Michaela's voice over his.

"Not until you've finished those peas and potatoes, young man…" Michaela held the knife and fork loosely in her hands, her eyes shifting from Brian's plate, to Sully, a small disapproving frown crossing her face, as the young boy shrugged and quickly gulped down his food.

"Now?" He held the empty plate in front of his mother, Michaela rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Go on then…" she dismissed him, the boy running quickly across to Grace behind the long tables of food.

"Dr. Mike… ah…" Colleen gestured surreptitiously down to the barely touched food on Michaela's plate, the slight edge to the girl's voice conveying her meaning.

"Colleen…" Michaela whispered, however sliced another small piece of meatloaf and slipped it into her mouth.

The subtle glances and exchanges continued between the two until Michaela had reluctantly consumed the food in front of her.

"So… ah… tomorrow… was thinkin' about a picnic… then maybe a hike up through…" Sully watched Colleen place her glass down beside her plate her reply instant and direct.

"Can't…" Her eyes widened for a quick moment, realizing she'd now have to think of an excuse. Clasping her fingers awkwardly in her lap, the young girl fidgeted with her skirt for several moments before daring to glance back in Sully's direction.

"All right…" He nodded, his voice slow as he quickly became very aware of an underlying agenda.

Colleen sighed, the atmosphere around the small table becoming incredibly stifled and uncomfortable. Sliding her cutlery together on the plate, Michaela reached for the glass of apple cider, her eyes alternating between Colleen's raised eyebrows to Sully's resigned confusion.

Fortunately the silence was broken with Brian arriving back at the table, his plate loaded with several slices of meatloaf.

"Brian… are you crazy?" Colleen chastised, the young boy looking guiltily down at the thick cuts of meat, soaked in rich gravy, before taking his seat next to Colleen and Michaela, Sully opposite him.

"He's a growin' boy… 'sides all that flying through the air rescuin' people's gonna tire you out…" Sully smiled, pushing his chair out from the table slightly to rest his right hand on his left knee.

"So… what you kids fancy doin' tomorrow after church?" Sully looked at the dry crust of meatloaf on the edge of his plate, discreetly reaching forwards and handing it under the table to the wolf, receiving a grateful lick on the hand.

"Ah… ha bout we…" Brian stopped chewing trying to make himself heard.

"Brian Cooper! Not with your mouth full…" Michaela shook her head appalled, the young boy's shoulders sinking and head dropping whilst he swallowed his food.

"I think we should…" Colleen tapped her fingertips on the red-checked tablecloth, quickly trying to put forward a suggestion before her brother was able to digest his supper.

"Swimmin'…" Brian announced loudly, looking downwards with a small yelp as Colleen kicked him under the table.

"Fishing." She stated clearly, Sully's eyes narrowing, he'd had enough of this.

"Right… someone gonna tell me just what's goin' on here…" He folded his arms finitely across his chest, looking between Michaela, Colleen and finally down to Brian.

"What… what do you mean?" Colleen ran her tongue along her teeth, dropping her head; knowing exactly what he meant.

"Ma's…" Brian's face widened into an excited grin, merely assuming that Michaela's observed weight gain was of some intriguing importance to his sister, enough that she'd been acting so peculiarly.

"Promise." Colleen's voice was barely audible, yet succinct. The young boy was reminded that his sister had sworn him to secrecy only a week earlier.

"Dr. Mike?" Sully dropped the napkin he'd been creatively folding down to the edge of the table, everyone turning at the sound of a distant scuffle.

"I told ya… ya ain't welcome here, Hank…" the Reverend stood from his chair, all eyes going to the slightly intoxicated bartender.

"Just wanna join in… seein' as how my place's empty on account a this nice little family gatherin'…" His voice dripped with liquored sarcasm.

"Come on, Hank… you've had too much to drink… don't wanna go causin' a scene…" Olive rose from her chair, arriving to Timothy's left, the pair having hoped to contain the situation quietly.

"Fine…" Hank nodded slowly, staggering over to Grace, who had no choice but to pile some meatloaf and vegetables onto a plate.

"There now… just… enjoy ya supper…" Grace handed Hank the food, the majority of onlookers taking it as a sign that the situation had resolved itself, and returned their attention to their previous trivial chatter.

Sully's bright blue eyes flashed between Hank and the conversation he'd been having up until that point, uneasiness settling in his chest; Hank's submission had been too easy.

"So… Sully… can go fishin', can't we?" Brian's eyes were hope-filled, watching patiently as Sully continued to observe Hank survey the crowd, the bartender finally choosing exactly where he wanted to sit.

Sully pulled a concerned face, pushing back his chair several inches in preparation for the objection that was to ensure.

"You ain't sittin' with us, Hank… just go on somewhere else…" Horace got to his feet defensively, Hank having decided to take the empty chair on the table with Horace, Myra, and Lewis.

"Free country…. Can sit where I like…" Hank looked hungrily at the plate of food in front of him, Horace pacing around the table in confrontation whilst Myra and Lewis exchanged startled glances at the gruff man's intrusion.

"Then what's wrong with over at the Saloon?" Horace rested his hand on the table only inches from Hank's plate, impending fatherhood causing a newfound protectiveness to surface.

"Wouldn't be 'round all these fine people then, would I? 'Sides… ain't had the time to congratulate Myra, have I?" Hank tossed several ringlets of hair over his shoulder, deliberately directing his attention to his former employee.

"Reckon we might have a bit of a problem any time soon…" Sully turned to watch the discourse across the café escalate, before rising to his feet and unobtrusively sauntering past nearby tables.

"Am real happy for ya, Myra…" Hank nodded several times, a strange expression appearing on his face; sarcasm mixed with envy and sincerity.

"Hank… I'm warnin' ya…" Horace remained firmly positioned to Hank's left, the telegraph operator's hand still resting on the table between his wife and the troublesome bartender.

"What… ain't done nothin'…" Hank glanced back up at Horace, the anger and jealousy now apparent behind his cold eyes.

"Don't care… don't like ya talkin' to her…" Horace turned slightly, as Sully appeared by his side, sensing Hank's impending outburst.

"Well… that's just _tough!_ Ain't it 'Papa'… coz… I can talk… to whoever I want…" Hank looked between Sully and Horace, starting to feel threatened. He knew by that stage he had the attention of everyone in the café.

"Hank… please… don't make a scene…" Myra tensed her shoulders, her voice soft, yet pleading.

"What's the matter, Myra? Come over here just to let ya know how pleased I am for ya… bein' in the family way and all… just glad you did it in the right order this time… not like that little scare last year…" Hank winked, rising to his feet, a humiliating smile plastered on his face.

"Hank…" Myra sighed, realizing immediately that his motivation for coming over to them was anything by positive.

"Ma… how come Hank's always pickin' on Myra?" Brian slid from the chair, going to Michaela's side as they continued to watch the altercation from a distance.

"He's just… jealous, sweetheart…" Michaela squeezed the boy's shoulder, her eyes diverting back to the table across the open space, Lewis having arrived on his feet by his uncle's side.

"You're gonna leave right now… or… or…" Horace clenched his right fist tentatively, realizing he probably didn't have a chance against even a drunk Hank, should it come to physical violence.

"Or what, jack ass? Tryin' to prove you're the big man in front of the little woman now," Hank looked around, very impressed at the audience he'd acquired, before taking a step forwards, shoving his hand into Horace's shoulder firmly.

"Or… this…" Horace looked swiftly between his wife and his tormentor, before lunging towards Hank, an outstretched arm colliding with his chest.

The ensuring scuffle was relatively superficial, Sully rolling his eyes as both Hank and Horace landed on the ground, arms locked against each other's necks.

"Come on… break it up... guys…" Sully shook his hand, a disappointed groan coming from Myra, as people ran quickly to gather around the brawling pair.

"I wanna see…" Brian pulled away from the table immediately, disappearing amongst the crowd of onlookers.

"Brian," Michaela opposed, reluctantly getting to her feet and following after him, Colleen dropping her shoulders in defeat and doing the same.

"Uncle Horace… please…" Lewis frowned, bending down to try and pull the telegraph operator off of the bartender.

"Leave 'im, Lewis… don't wanna see ya get hurt…" Sully tugged on the boy's arm, Matthew, who had been sitting with Ingrid and her family, merged from the crowd looking between Sully and the two men fighting like schoolboys.

"You gonna stop them?" The young man gripped his hands to his hips demandingly, both men wincing as Horace managed to grab a handful of Hank's hair, the drunken bartender growling in pain.

"Nah… they'll tire 'em selves out…" Sully felt Brian squash through the sea of onlookers, arriving by his side.

"Horace… I don't want you gettin' hurt… stop fightin'…" Myra crossed her arms over her chest, walking around the corner of the table.

Michaela saw Brian disappear through the crowd, about to follow after him when Colleen pulled back on her arm.

"Colleen, my medical bag is in the wagon… can you…?" Michaela turned back to address the young girl, her voice fading when she saw Colleen's disapproving glare.

"Fine… just… I give up…" Colleen dropped her hands in complete exasperation to her sides, shrugging Michaela off and running back towards the livery.

"I said… break it up…" Matthew pulled on Horace's arm, turning to Sully for assistance.

"You just gonna stand there?" The young man protested, Sully looking a final time between Myra and Lewis, before bending down to the men on the ground.

"Horace… Horace…" Sully and Matthew pulled him from Hank, the tall, dark haired man slowly beginning to straighten himself out.

"No… no ya don't…" Matthew interceded quickly, a hand going to Hank's chest as he got to his feet, in no mood to call it quits.

"Go on, Hank… all over…" Sully tightened his grip on Horace's shoulder, concerned that the slightly bruised man may attempt one final retaliatory strike.

Michaela watched Colleen disappear, before arriving at the edge of the crowd, and beginning to push her way through the mass of townspeople.

The Reverend and Olive, along with several others, including, Jake, Dorothy, and Loren, remained at a safe distance, several feet behind Matthew and Sully.

"Hank… please…?" Myra brushed a worried tear from her eye, looking between each of the breathless men.

"Fine…" The bartender dusted off his hands, looking from Horace, to Sully, Matthew, and finally to Myra. His voice was heavy with defeat; tainted with bitter envy.

"Don't think ya know what ya got yaself into, Myra… that baby's gonna come out lookin' like its bastard of a father…" Hank snarled, taking one final glance around at his audience before kicking the chair in front of him, and storming back towards the Saloon.

Michaela had her right hand pressed between Becky's mother's back and Steven Myers' shoulder, still forging her way through to the front of the crowd, when she heard Hank's remark float over the silently apprehensive gathering. Her eyes glazed over for a single moment, suddenly picturing this child for the first time. Her child. The graphic visual overreaction that flooded her mind was instantly accompanied by immediate, gripping nausea.

Swallowing desperately, Michaela looked back in the direction she'd come, realizing she needed an immediate and discrete escape route.

"Horace, what'd ya have to do a dumb thing like that for… you knew it was just what Hank was lookin' for…" Myra brushed the dirt and dust from her husband's shoulders and chest, the crowd slowly beginning to break away. Matthew and Sully regarded each other for several moments, the tension from the week before subdued, however still very much present.

"Horace ain't got hurt, did he?" Brian looked between Sully and Matthew, unaware of the slight friction between the two men.

"I'm fine, Brian… don't you worry 'bout me…" Horace reassured, wrapping his arm around Myra's shoulder and leading her back to her seat.

Michaela arrived in the alleyway between Grace's and the Clinic, her right hand over her mouth, her left still clutching her skirt from her hurried dash.

Her left hand reaching up to grip the cold, stone wall of the Clinic, Michaela felt her upper body lurch forwards, violent retching ensuing as she was reminded of Hank's heartless words. She could feel the tips of her fingers slide against the rough surface, nails digging more firmly against the stone as she managed to rid herself of the still undigested supper that had been in her stomach.

"Here," Michaela barely had time to orientate herself once again to her surroundings, before a handkerchief appeared over her right shoulder, Michaela at once aware of the identity of the voice.

"Thank-you…" She wiped her mouth with as much composure as she could muster, swallowing several times as she regulated her breathing and allowed the nausea to subside.

"Always tryin' to tell Grace, one day she's gonna make someone real sick with her cookin'…" Robert E. chuckled lightly, lowering his head, realizing Michaela didn't appreciate an audience for what had been quite an undignified moment.

"I'm sorry… I don't really…" Michaela kept her back to him, studying the force with which her left hand was secured against the stone wall.

"No… I'll go… you be all right?" The Blacksmith frowned, respecting her wishes, however feeling guilty leaving Michaela on her own.

"I just need a minute…" she supplied, dropping her head once again, as she heard his shoes crunch against the dusty ground.

Realizing she was once again on her own, Michaela sighed noisily, feeling her shoulders tense up as her upper body rose and fell with each strained breath. Her breathing was high in her chest, as she looked down to see her stomach tight against the material of her two-piece red dress.

Repositioning her feet underneath her, Michaela once again heard Hank's words from minutes earlier, repeat themselves in her head. Throwing her upper body forwards, she found herself once again wracked with powerful retching. Her stomach now void of any contents, Michaela felt her weight fall heavily against the stone wall, her breathing labored and tears beginning to run freely from her eyes.

Alternating her gaze from the deserted alleyway and then back downwards, Michaela blinked her eyes several times, her vision blurring as the uncontrollable tears continued to fall.

_It's not fair…_

**X.O.X**

"But she was right here…" Colleen dropped Michaela's medical bag down forcefully to the table, Sully and Brian looking up slightly shocked at the outburst.

"Calm down… probably just… gone to the Clinic for something… or… I dunno…" Sully shrugged, not understanding the girl's motives for her extreme emotion.

"This is ridiculous… I don't care…" Colleen collapsed angrily into the chair next to Brian, the young boy resting a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, concerned by her overreaction.

"Something wrong, Colleen? Seemed… tense… for a while now…" Sully finished the glass of cider in front of him, noticing Grace moving from table to table in the distance, handing out slices of pie for dessert.

"I… said I wouldn't say nothin'…" She muttered under her breath, Brian leaning closer in childlike fascination.

"Colleen… if something's wrong… how do you know I can't help?" Sully was distracted by Brian's intrigued whispering into his sister's ear.

"Trust me… you can't… Briaaaannn…" She swiped at the boy to her left, folding her arms impossibly tight across her chest.

The three looked up as Robert E. approached the table, his hands stuck deeply in his pockets, nervous worry plastered across his face.

"Ah, I… Sully…" He elicited the man's attention, Sully directing his attention knowingly towards him.

"Something up, Robert E?" Sully read the concern immediately in his friend's eyes, arriving on his feet in less than a second.

Nodding discreetly, the Blacksmith pulled Sully away from the children's earshot.

"Ah… it's, Dr. Mike… ain't nothin' really… just… don't think she's feelin' too well… just in the alleyway by the Clinic… thought you might like to…" Robert E. gestured in the direction he'd just come from, Sully moving into a paced run, Colleen reaching immediately to grab Brian's hand when he rose from his chair.

"Colleen… Ma…" The young boy resented being pulled back from a potentially interesting event. His older sister curled her finger back towards herself, Brian leaning closer towards her, eyes narrowing.

"Brian… you remember what I told ya, ya can't talk about… think it's best to give Sully and Ma some time alone… then… hopefully all be out in the open…" Colleen looked up, glad of the distraction, when Grace handed both the children freshly baked pieces of apricot pie.

**X.O.X**

Michaela's head was pressed firmly against the hard stone wall behind her, her cheeks itchy with dried tears, having eventually managed to overcome the nausea without anyone else noticing her.

Both hands locking on the sides of her skirt, Michaela frowned uncomfortably, discreetly tugging at the waistband of her dress, managing to tuck it half an inch higher underneath the tightly fitted bodice. Both her hands wiping momentarily over her face, Michaela was unaware of the approaching figure until he'd arrived only yards away from her.

"Michaela…ya all right?" Sully realized the foolishness of his question, when she immediately turned away, burying her head in her hands against the stone wall.

"Hey… what?" He reached for her shoulder, now less than half a foot from her, shaking his head, still at a complete loss.

"Leave me," She heard the breathiness and hoarseness in her voice, trying to wipe the remnants of tears from her face.

"Told ya… I ain't… Wanna help…" He squeezed her shoulder lightly, Michaela cringing and shrinking from his grasp, eventually turning slowly back around towards him.

"Well you can't," Michaela's reply was direct, her voice bitterly sarcastic and cold.

"I don't understand… has someone said something? Was it the play? Michaela… that was… only a play…" Sully nodded his head knowingly, deducing the underlying ethos of the play was responsible for her distress.

She broke her eyes from his gaze, focusing instead on a collection of pebbles several feet away, in the middle of the walkthrough.

"Look, even ya own kids are worried 'bout ya… please… just…" Sully knew whatever it was that was upsetting Michaela, was obviously something significant enough to throw her into such silence. He knew it would just take some determination.

"Sully… just go… I'll be fine… just… go back with the children…" She begged, feeling hopelessly trapped and pressured.

"No… they're fine… It's you I'm worried 'bout… Michaela?" Sully slid his left hand from her right shoulder down to her upper arm, knowing she'd give in within a few minutes and talk to him, as she had done only a week before.

"Let… go…" Michaela tried to pull her arm from his grasp, frowning and locking eyes immediately with him, when she felt his fingers tighten more firmly against the fabric of her sleeve. .

"Not until you tell me what's goin' on… this has been goin' on for too long, now… the children are on edge… no-one knows what to say to ya… Michaela… I… we've all tried to be as supportive as we can… but… Colleen, for one, can't take anymore… You gotta meet us halfway…" Sully looked down at his hand still tightly wrapped around her upper arm, knowing he wasn't actually causing her physical pain, however speculating that if he pushed her just far enough, they'd get to the bottom of all this.


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

Michaela felt her once stable breathing begin to increase slightly, the weight of his hand on her arm feeling overwhelmingly physically intrusive after several moments.

"Please…" Her voice was frail and defenseless, feeling his grasp only tighten against her struggles.

"I'm sorry… but if it's gonna mean you'll open up to me... once and for all… then…" Sully saw the desperation and fear sweep over her face, hating himself for cornering her like this. He knew Michaela's stubbornness, however; therefore he knew this was the only way.

She tightened her arms against her sides, feeling the roughness of the wall behind her. Darting her eyes quickly from side to side, Michaela knew he wasn't going to give in. She despised his determination in that moment; hated him for what he was making her face; however unable to fight the reality that he was doing what he thought right.

_No. Don't give in, Michaela. You're stronger than that. You can't tell him, he'll never understand… you know what he was like before… you can't tell him; he'll never let you go through with this. You have to decide Michaela. You know what you want. You know what's right for you. Don't let him win._

"Michaela… nothing is that terrible…" Sully looked back towards the café; had somebody said something offensive to her? No. This had been going on for too long to be the result of anything that had happened today. He maintained eye contact with her; although nothing could have prepared him for the response that followed.

A barely audible moan of protest escaped her lips, as a single tear fell from her left eye. In one split second, Michaela had decided on her course of action.. Pulling back sharply from his grasp, she momentarily freed herself, looking immediately to her right, about to take a step in that direction, when Sully rested both his hands firmly on her shoulders.

She kept her head dropped, every spare ounce of energy being utilized to not give into his demands.

_Two more days… Then… I can stop pretending…_

She felt the silent words play over and over in her mind, reassuring herself that the façade was only temporary. Within two weeks, she'd be back… and no-one would know any different.

_Don't ruin it now, Michaela… don't. You'll never forgive yourself._

"Michaela…?" Sully watched her eyebrows move, unaware of the mental discourse taking place within her.

Hearing his voice, although seeming to be a long way away, Michaela's only concentration was divided between the inner dialogue within her mind, and the sensation of his hands pushing down heavily on her shoulders.

Her heart racing, and muscles tensing, she knew she once again was left with only a physical response.

Drawing her hands instantaneously from her side, Michaela fought desperately against his arms, almost managing to duck and free herself from his grasp. She felt the stones behind her pressing harder, yet never painfully, against her back. Sully's hands moved to each of her wrists; leaving her completely pinned.

Michaela's eyes dropped closed in defeat at that point, feeling nothing other than physical suffocation and rage. How dare he presume he had a right to dictate her physical freedoms. How dare he presume he had the right to demand answers from her. In that instant of pure, irrational fury, Michaela's mind locked onto one undeniable conclusion.

"How dare you! This is all your fault…" She felt the accusation leave her without a moment's hesitation. Michaela was beyond possessing the logical ability to discern truth from emotion at this point, seeing Sully's eyes narrow as a sign that he had taken in her words.

"Keep goin'…" His voice was dull, hating to hear the words from her lips, however knowing that if it was what she needed to convey, then he could withstand it. It was the least he owed her.

"What gives you the right… to assume I'm accountable to you… to demand answers from me…" Michaela pulled her arms desperately in struggle against his grasp, her fists clenched to the point where her knuckles had turned white.

Sully remained perfectly silent, letting her work herself up to the point where pure exhaustion would allow her to disclose to him.

"What makes you think… you've the right to keep me here like this... you haven't a right to any of this… if it hadn't of been for you, none of this would have happened in the first place…" Her voice was ragged and strained, but still he kept his eyes locked on hers, and his fingers gripped around her wrists. He knew he was close.

"It's all your fault! If it hadn't of been for you… I never would have met Cloud Dancing, or Snowbird… or… or… any of them! I never would have been out there that day… I never would have seen them kill the soldiers… They never would have… He never…" Michaela's voice cracked as she furiously flailed her fists against his chest, uncontrollable tears streaming from her eyes. He lowered his gaze, realizing Michaela was finally speaking the truth she'd been determined to deny from him; to deny from herself.

"It never would have happened! All your fault! I… I wish… I wish I'd never come here… I…" Her breathing was shallow, her voice so high, it was almost childlike. Her throat was choked with tears, her hair splayed messily around her shoulders.

Sully swallowed, returning his gaze to her eyes, not expecting her to continue.

"I wish I'd never met you!" Michaela was hysterical by this point, her words however, still managing to carry complete conviction.

"You… you don't mean that…" Sully spaced his words out in hushed disbelief.

"Yes I do! I… I _never_ want to see you again!" She felt her arms fall back against her torso, not comprehending that it was due to the fact that he had released them from his grasp. Somehow, Michaela managed to maintain direct eye contact with him, the raw fury having projected her voice forwards, as breath alone could not.

Taking a silent step away from her, Sully studied her face, looking for any indication of remorse or regret. He could find none.

"If… that's the way you feel… I'll… I'll go…" His voice faded in defeat, both aware of the permanence of his final word.

Michaela clutched her hands desperately in front of her, both turning when they heard a distant holler.

"What the devil you doin' to her!" Olive stepped out from the café, having arrived into the narrow alleyway several moments before, witnessing the end of the physical altercation, and jumping immediately and unquestioningly to Michaela's defense.

Sully's face adopted an eerily calm expression; looking once from Olive, back to Michaela, before he nodded twice slowly, and turned towards his right.

"You know where to find me when you're ready… I wish I could have prevented this…" He addressed her one final time, his voice soft and final, before breaking out into a frenzied sprint, disappearing out onto the main street, the wolf trailing after him.

Arriving to Michaela's side as soon as she could, Olive grappled to take everything in.

"Dr. Mike…? Dr. Mike… I…" Olive managed to take her hands just as Michaela began to slide towards the ground in exhaustion. Neither woman made a sound for several moments; Olive busied herself trying to brush Michaela's hair from her face, the only sound Michaela's tearful breathing.

"What… happened?" Olive shook her head, seeing the unfamiliarity in Michaela's eyes.

"I… said it was his fault… why… why did I say that…?" Michaela was able, for the first time, to recollect her irrational words, and despite having no control over them at the time, knew she'd said things that she could now, never take back.

"Ssh… don't have to worry 'bout that… maybe you had a point… I mean… wouldn't catch me goin' out there with him… sometimes think we're all kept separate for a reason… Sully's never understood that… but… with what's happened… maybe we're not meant to mix… just makes everything too complicated…" Olive found a clean handkerchief tucked under her left sleeve, delicately dabbing at Michaela's tear-streaked cheeks, surprised when she'd not responded until now.

"You're… you're right, Olive… It certainly does," Michaela sighed, looking from the alleyway leading up towards the main street, then back down to her hands locked in front of her waist.

"Come along… kids'll be worryin' where ya got to…" Olive rubbed Michaela's shoulder supportively, helping her awkwardly to her feet.

"Please… would you fetch them…" Michaela brought her fingers to her eyes, continuing to wipe the excess moisture from her face.

"Sure, everyone's headin' home anyway. Startin' to get dark…" The older woman reassured, Michaela slowly recomposing herself as Olive swiftly disappeared to get the children.

Feeling a burning sensation against her wrists, Michaela looked down to see the pale red marks left from the physical struggle.

_Oh, God… What have I done…_

**X.O.X**

"Time for bed, Brian… aren't you exhausted?" Colleen directed her brother through the front door of the homestead, the young boy still full of energy as he slipped off the jacket of his costume, draping it casually over the back of the chair.

"What happened to Sully?" Brian frowned, addressing his sister, as Michaela appeared through the doorway behind them Matthew was still outside returning Bear to the barn.

"I dunno… go on... gotta be up early for church…" Colleen deflected, her annoyance obvious. Without thinking, she picked up his jacket, folded it neatly, and headed across to the large walk-in wardrobe to the left of Michaela's bed.

"Dr. Mike… where'd Sully go? Colleen asked innocently, waiting until Brain had pulled the curtain across, preoccupied in changing into his pajamas.

Michaela closed the front door slowly, frowning unconsciously at the mention of his name. She turned to her right, noticing Colleen emerge from her dressing area, expecting a reply.

"He… I don't know… I don't know," Michaela felt her lips tighten against her teeth, every facial muscle struggling to hold back the tears.

"What's…?" Colleen's shoulders dropped, at a loss for Michaela's seemingly routine emotional breakdown. A heavy sigh escaped the girl's mouth, as she paced dutifully around the edge of the bed, quickly pulling back the quilt and top sheet.

"Thank-you," Michaela wiped her eyes with the back of her right hand, as she crossed the small space to arrive by Colleen's side at the edge of the bed.

"Did you tell him?" Colleen's voice was stern and demanding; she'd had more than enough over the past few weeks, and Michaela's evasiveness was only adding to her frustration.

"No…" Michaela slipped the two combs from her hair, looking down as she placed them carefully on the table beside her bed.

"This is ridiculous! You gotta tell him. Can't keep hiding it from everyone… I can't stand it any longer; havin' to walk on eggshells around here… never knowin' who's throat you're gonna jump down next!" The young girl threw her arms out to her side in exasperation, before folding them tightly across her chest.

"He… he's gone, Colleen." Michaela perched on the side of her bed, reaching down and beginning to unlace her boots.

"Gone? I don't understand… what happened?" She took a seat nervously beside Michaela, the girl's voice softening somewhat, sensing the significance of the word 'gone'.

"I… I'm afraid it's my fault… I spoke dreadfully to him… I… told him I never wanted to see him again…" Michaela's hands flew to her cheeks, cradling her head for several moments, still not believing the words had passed her lips only hours before.

"Why would you say somethin' like that? I mean… it's not true, is it?" Colleen whispered, reaching across to slowly unfasten the back of Michaela's dress.

"Of course it's not true… I didn't feel comfortable telling him… and he was being rather insistent… I just… overreacted… I'm sorry, I've been doing that a lot lately…" Michaela nodded in gratitude to Colleen, her words referring to their altercation several days earlier.

"It's all right, Dr. Mike… just think it'd be easier on everyone, you too… if… ya let people know what's going on…" Colleen pulled the corner of her mouth up slowly, realizing she probably didn't have a clue what she was talking about.

"Colleen, I," Michaela felt the guilt over her imminent departure resurface, wanting to warn the girl, however being simultaneously reminded of Colleen's words from their conversation on the bridge. She was too young to be able to understand the complexity of the situation. Michaela knew she could not expect the child to comprehend the dilemma she was facing.

"He'll come around, Dr. Mike… Sully ain't gonna think you meant it… gonna know you were just upset…" she reassured supportively. Michaela nodded enough to suffice, however remained unconvinced. She'd seen the disbelief and hurt in his eyes; she'd heard the fury and conviction in her own voice.

Colleen took the opportunity to glance down hesitantly towards Michaela's stomach, a worrying thought still nagging at her.

"Dr. Mike… shouldn't ya… I dunno… just… almost four months now… Aren't ya worried about people… noticing… I mean… maybe it's just coz I know... but… well, Brian didn't know… and he could tell. Wouldn't ya want people to know before they can see?" Colleen was suddenly aware of the realness of the situation. Somehow the term 'pregnant' had a clinically cold connotation; it wasn't until she began to visualize her mother over the coming weeks that reality began to set in.

Michaela's eyes dropped downwards instantly, adjusting her skirt awkwardly.

"No-one's said anything… is it… obvious?" Michaela very tentatively flattened her skirt over her firm abdomen, looking back towards Colleen for an answer.

"Not unless you do that… but… if Brian's all worked up, thinkin' you're gettin' fat… of course everyone will be too polite to phrase it like that… but… can't hide it forever…" Colleen rose from the bed, Michaela remaining silent, her hands moving to her back to unbutton her skirt, slipping the bodice of her outfit from her arms, and reaching for her nightdress under her pillow.

"Night, Ma…" The young girl whispered, a worried frown creeping over her face as she made her way to her bed, Brian already having drifted off to sleep from the day's excitement.

**X.O.X**

"I just… thought it'd work… thought she'd give in… Cloud Dancin', you know how stubborn she is…" Sully brought his knees up to his chest, gazing reflectively into the fire that lit the night sky.

"You cannot blame yourself… all you can do is try and do what is right… the choice is up to us… we cannot be responsible for the consequences…" Cloud Dancing adjusted the blanket around his shoulders, watching as other Cheyenne villagers settled into their teepees for the night.

"Do you think I'm expectin' too much? Expectin' her to heal too soon?" Sully frowned, wrapping his hands around his knees.

"I do not know… no-one knows… you forget… Dr. Mike does not even know… Spirits tell me the two of you are not meant to be apart, however," he offered, Sully responding somewhat skeptically.

"Well… we sure ain't meant to be together after what happened… only causin' each other more harm… thing is… it ain't just me… she's being snappy with everyone… the children are struggling… and I thought… I suppose I thought it was my place… my responsibility to… confront her… because no-one else will. I just can't see the light ahead any longer… not if she's going to keep herself so closed off. It's like… she's sayin' everything she thinks she oughta, even doin' everythin' like before… but… somethin' missin'. There's this… emptiness. Like she's not feelin' anythin'… and I don't know how to fix that," Sully threw another stick onto the fire, shaking his head in frustration.

"Maybe it is not something you can just fix… it is something she will need to discover for herself. It is not just about returning to the way things were before. It is acknowledging the loss… allowing oneself to grieve… Snowbird has been through a similar ordeal… once she was able to adjust to our son's death… it is not simply a matter of moving on… it is accepting that a time of grief is necessary. Now I do not know how long such a time will last… but I try to accept that living every day is not about ending this grief… it is about accepting that it is there… trusting that it will improve in time… however not fighting it… one must live in hope…" Cloud Dancing looked back up at his brother, Sully's eyes remained downcast and cold.

"But how much time? She seems to be gettin' worse… and I don't know how to get us through this any longer…" Sully sighed, looking up hopelessly towards the stars.

"You need to take some time… you need to balance yourself… My brother, it is not only Dr. Mike who is grieving… you too have suffered a loss… what has happened has taken from your future, also…" Cloud Dancing considered, his voice evenly-paced and calming.

"I don't care about me… it's Michaela… I… only want her to stop being in this pain. I don't care if we never have a future together… I… wish I'd died out there, rather than havin' to see her hurtin' so bad…" Sully lowered his head, feeling Cloud Dancing's arm come to rest on his shoulder, as if attempting to transfer pure strength through physical contact alone.

"You need to rediscover your purpose, if only for a few days… you need to find the right path again…" Cloud Dancing waited for Sully to glance back up at him, both men knowing they were speaking of a vision quest.


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

"Why so long, Michaela?" Josef closed the large door behind him, removing his spectacles and slipping them into the top pocket of his jacket.

"It's not up to me… I… This… isn't real… is it?" Michaela looked back hesitantly towards the corridor she'd spent the last few weeks traveling, having finally arrived outside the dark wooden door, her father blocking her path.

"That depends on you… do you still want my help?" Josef reached a hand to her upper arm, Michaela suddenly feeling extremely confused, reality and dream fighting against each other.

"But you… you can't help me… you're… dead, Father…" She felt his hand squeeze her arm soothingly; his touch was real.

"That is true… but I can still offer you guidance… Michaela… why did you wish to become a doctor?" His words were deliberately paced, his hand still brushing against her arm.

"You… know why… to relieve pain… to save lives… to…" Michaela stopped, silenced by the hypocrisy of her response.

"Come…" Josef turned back towards the door, having decided it was time for Michaela to enter the room she'd previously been unable to.

"I…" Michaela hesitated, irrational nervousness taking over, not sure if she was truly ready for what lay beyond that door.

"Michaela… you wanted my help… this is the only way I know how," Josef reached his left hand towards the doorknob, turning it slightly and opening the door just a crack.

Michaela swallowed, about to take a step towards him, when she heard the piercing cries; a baby's cries. Her mouth clenched closed, eyes widening in fear, Michaela turned back towards the long, dark corridor, her father gripping her right arm more strongly.

"You're stronger than that, Michaela…" Josef let the door swing open completely, the infant's cries intensifying. Michaela glanced back over her right shoulder, squinting to see into the darkened room.

"I don't understand…" Michaela drew her hands instantly to her stomach, fingers padding desperately against her flesh; she no longer was pregnant. Looking up in mortification, she met her father's eyes; that, was her baby.

"I know what you are planning, Michaela. I know my approval was important to you… But it does not have to be that way," Josef gestured into the seemingly empty room with his left hand, Michaela's shoulders rising and falling with her heavy breathing as she reluctantly followed him.

Once again feeling her footsteps slow and heavy, Michaela entered the room, her eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness, seeing a wrought iron bed in the far corner. It was then she noticed the small bundle of white blankets in the center of the bed.

"I can't," she whispered, and turned to her father. His hands were clutched tightly to the lapels of his jacket.

"Will it not help you to decide?" Josef lowered his gaze, Michaela's jaw dropping as he unemotionally nodded for her to approach the distressed infant.

"Father, I…" Michaela blinked uncomfortably, knowing his presence was not helping matters.

"If you want me to go… I'll go…" The familiar words echoed traumatically through her mind as she saw him turn and leave the room.

All she could hear by that point was the crying. It was a desperate and rich wailing. She knew she had to see. Hearing the door close across the room, Michaela knew what she was afraid of. She'd known from the moment she'd discovered she was pregnant. Being reminded more graphically only the previous evening, when Hank had managed to unknowingly voice her preoccupations.

She was terrified of what her child would look like.

The floorboards creaked under her feet as she crossed the room. Michaela felt a choked gasp pass her lips. Her eyes locked first on the child's impossibly dark hair, visible over the edge of the white woolen blanket. Moving closer still, Michaela clasped her hand over her mouth, her chest tightening.

"…_that baby's gonna come out lookin' like its bastard of a father…"_ Hank's voice was chilling. Michaela looked around, almost expecting to find him in the room.

"No…" She arrived by the side of the bed, tilting her head downwards, so as to be able to see the child completely; her blood ran cold.

In a single flash of time, Michaela's most haunting, impossible fears were confirmed. This child bore no resemblance to her whatsoever. In that moment of unmitigated terror, Michaela had no ability to dispute the irrationality of what lay before her;

"…_that baby's gonna come out lookin' like its bastard of a father…"_

It was then that she noticed the unmistakable scrap of material covering the baby's left eye. Her shoulders drawing immediately upwards, Michaela let out a shrill screech, the sound of her own voice echoing around her for several moments, when she realized the torture her mind had chosen to inflict upon her.

The child continued screaming, arms flailing either side of its tiny body, tears staining its small, brown cheeks. Her hands gripped firmly in front of her, Michaela took another strangled mouthful of air, her imagination creating an impossibly abstract creature; the infant's long black hair hung around its neck; pale brown animal skins, swaddled around its small form.

Without being aware of her movements, Michaela had backed away from the bed, terrified squeals continuing as she looked around desperately for the wooden door leading back out to the corridor. In the surrealism of the nightmare, the room had altered, and the door vanished completely. She was trapped, hearing nothing other than her child's cries blending with her own petrified screams.

"Ma! Ma… wake up… Ma!" Colleen had been ripped from her sleep several moments ago by the sound of Michaela's blood-curdling screams. Crossing the homestead, Colleen had arrived by her bedside, Michaela struggling desperately against the quilt she'd become entangled in.

Frowning worriedly, the young girl managed to catch Michaela's right arm, stopping it from colliding against the wooden head of the bed, kneeling on the edge of the mattress as Michaela emerged from unconsciousness with a disorientated startle.

"Ma… only a dream… Ma… it's all right…" Colleen cringed in dismay, seeing the raw panic behind her mother's eyelids. Michaela sat up and looked around the darkened homestead.

"Where…? I…" Michaela concentrated all her efforts on regulating her breathing, both looking across as Brian pushed his way through the white curtain.

"Who's makin' all the noise," He wiped his eyes groggily, having noticed that Colleen was no longer in her bed.

"It's all right Brian… go back to bed…" Colleen comforted, rubbing her right hand along Michaela's arm, looking between her mother and younger brother.

"Ma all right?" He stepped across the room, scuffing his bare feet across the rough floorboards, crawling onto the opposite side of the bed.

"Ma?" Colleen looked back down at Michaela, expecting immediate reassurance. She frowned, taking in the paleness of Michaela's face, and the blank staring of her eyes.

All three people jumped slightly to the sound of the back door opening, Matthew appearing after only a second, having heard the disturbance from the barn.

"Dr. Mike?" His eyes were cold and large. The young man arrived by his sister's side, the two older children starting to be concerned by Michaela's silence.

"Maybe she had a bad dream? I know when I have a bad dream, I get real scared… did ya have a bad dream, Ma?" Brian tilted his head, carefully moving further up the bed to obtain his mother's attention.

"Ma?" Colleen looked down at Michaela's limp arm, before turning back to her older brother for support.

"Maybe get her a glass of water?" Matthew shrugged, having no clue as to how to rouse Michaela's attention. Colleen nodded and got to her feet, Matthew taking her place on the side of the bed.

"Everything's all right, Ma… just us here…" Matthew pushed a handful of her tangled hair back over her shoulder, Michaela looking between each of her sons, hands moving quickly, yet not overly dramatically to her stomach, as if to ensure the events still fresh in her mind had really only been illusion.

"Here…" Colleen handed her the glass of water, nodding in encouragement as Michaela hesitantly sipped the contents.

"Thank, thank-you…" She slowly handed the glass back to the girl, Brian having slid up to the top of the bed, leaning gently against her left side.

"Bad dreams ain't real, Ma… remember what you told me… so ya don't gotta be scared… but I'll stay with ya… and then if I see ya havin' a bad dream, I can wake ya up 'fore ya get too frightened…" Brian pulled decisively for the quilt, settling himself comfortably for the night's stay, neither Colleen nor Matthew having the heart to disturb him. Colleen shook her head as Brian helped Michaela rearrange the pillows behind her head; things were getting out of hand.

"Mathew…" The young girl brushed her brother's arm lightly, pulling herself to her feet, gesturing for him to follow her as she made her way towards the back door.

"Need me to tell ya a story, Ma?" Brian let his small fingers run over the back of her left hand, delicately tracing out each individual finger, Michaela still somewhat detached from reality.

"Once upon a time, there was a woman who had five daughters…" The young boy kept his voice hushed as he began the familiar story his Grandmother had told him several years ago.

**X.O.X**

"You wanna tell me why you're out here in the middle of the night in just a nightdress… gonna catch your death, Colleen!" Matthew shook his hands through his hair, watching in disbelief as Colleen softly closed the barn door, turning back to face him, a bewildered tentativeness creeping into her voice.

"Listen… I promised I wouldn't say nothin'… but… can't keep this up any longer… we gotta do something…" Colleen wrapped her arms across her chest, the night wind they'd just walked through having chilled her to the bone.

"What are ya talkin' about? Ain't nothin' we can do about Dr. Mike havin' nightmares… just gotta…" Matthew took a step backwards, surprised at the snappiness in Colleen's reply.

"I ain't talkin' about that! I… There's just no way to say this… Matthew… Dr. Mike… Ma's…" Colleen patted the palms of her hands rhythmically against her upper arms, pacing in a small circle around the barn, looking undecidedly between the homestead and her brother.

"What's goin' on, Colleen… this got somethin' to do with Sully and Dr. Mike havin' that fight?" Matthew placed his hands on his hips, trying his best to remain sympathetic, however aware of the late hour.

"Probably…" Colleen rolled her eyes, firmly believing Michaela had just made things harder on herself by stubbornly refusing to tell Sully.

"Well…?" Matthew brought his arms forwards, palms up in indication of his exasperation.

"Only found out last week, Brian… he was…" Colleen stuttered, hardly knowing where to begin.

"Colleen… will you just get to the…" Matthew glared at his sister, somewhat taken aback by the outburst that followed.

"Ma's… Ma's… pregnant!" The young girl's blond hair dropped over her shoulders, the anxiety that had built up during her admission, left her somewhat out of breath.

Matthew looked up, an uncomprehending frown appearing on his face. "What…?"

Colleen glared furiously back at him, appalled that he'd had the nerve to question her.

"What? What the hell do you mean 'what'! How many different things does the word 'pregnant' usually mean, Matthew?" The remainder of the trapped air in her lungs came out in a noisy huff, her older brother stuffing his hands into his pockets, before also beginning a slow pace around the barn.

"But, how… ah… I mean… who else knows?" Matthew felt the necessary masculine protectiveness, he knew was expected of him, begin to flow through his veins.

"Well… obviously… Dr. Mike, me, you, that's it. I only know coz Brian was snooping… and you only know, because… because I… I… I can't deal with…" Colleen's fingers had latched themselves together, her face crumbling and previously denied tears clouding her eyes.

"Hey… awww," Matthew saw his sister's face drop. Aware of the tears running down her cheeks, he took a step towards her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, as Colleen dropped herself wearily against his chest.

"She… said she was gonna tell Sully… but she won't… think that's why they had the fight… she's… just pushin' everyone away, Matthew…" Colleen's face reddened slightly with the emotion she was withstanding. Matthew brought his hands to her shoulders, locking his jaw and trying to decide on the best response.

"Probably real scared, Colleen… you know what she's like… all been too much…" Matthew pulled back, allowing Colleen to glance up at him.

"But, she's worryin' me… she's not takin' care a herself… not eatin'… and the horse ride last weekend… that weren't no accident… reckon she knew exactly what she was doin'…" Colleen turned her head back towards the homestead. Matthew removed his hands from her shoulders, and crossed them decisively in front of himself.

"You sayin' she's tryin' to… but she wouldn't… she'd never…" Matthew shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he mentally willed his sister to recant her words.

"But she is… says it ain't fair on us…" Colleen chewed idly on a fingernail, looking nervously between her hand and her older brother.

"Not us I'm worried about… you imagine Hank's face when he hears about this… we'll never hear the end of it… everyone'll… didn't you say Brian told you?" Matthew's face twitched; a panicked look of concern coming to his eyes; his younger brother was hardly the most reliable child when it came to keeping secrets.

"Yeah… but he didn't get it, I don't think… came to me coz he thinks Ma's worried she's 'gettin' fat'… I knew enough not to tell him anymore…" Colleen reassured Matthew, locking eyes with her older brother, relieved that she at least now had someone to talk things through with.

"So… ah… you're right… we gotta have a talk with her… This thing with Sully just don't make sense… Tomorrow… after church…" Matthew continued nodding lightly, trying to convince himself facing this nightmare was the right course of action.

"All right…" Colleen sighed heavily, her distress having been alleviated by their talk.

"Ain't nothin' we can do about it at this hour… just try and get some sleep… " Matthew paced across the barn, hands resting either side of the ladder that led up towards the hayloft.

"Easy for you to say… out here…" Colleen rolled her eyes, arriving by the door.

"Come get me if there are any problems…" Matthew began climbing the rungs back up to his bed.

"Yeah… you bet I will…" Colleen pushed the large wooden door open, disappearing back out into the night.

**X.O.X**

**Sunday, 3****rd**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later – 19 Weeks Gestation**_

**X.O.X**

"If you all turn your books to page fifty-seven… we'll conclude with the final hymn, Amazing Grace…" the Reverend cleared his throat, closed his bible and raised his arms in front of his chest to lead the congregation into song.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound… that saved a wretch like me…!" Timothy glanced warmly around the church, the warm morning not appearing to dampen anyone's spirits.

"I once was lost… but now, am found… was blind… but now I see…" Dorothy sat next to Loren, fanning herself, and pushing a strand of frizzed hair back over her ear.

"Twas grace that taught my heart to fear… and grace my fears relieved…" Jake sat near the back of the church, looking somewhat bored. Nonetheless, he reluctantly joined in the final song, folding his arms and taking in the families around him.

"How precious did that grace appear… the hour I first believed…" Matthew smiled at Ingrid to his left side, before meeting eyes with Colleen on his right, the pair nodding in understanding at the confrontation that had been planned for that afternoon.

Brian stood by the aisle, to the right of Michaela, the young boy looking around eagerly for Steven. The boys had started a frog-catching conversation an hour earlier, and both were eager to continue it.

"Through many dangers, toils and snares… I have already come…" Michaela shifted her glance unconsciously from the book in her hands, eyes glazing over somewhat. It wasn't until she felt Colleen grip her left hand, that she realized she'd drifted so far from reality.

"'Tis grace hath brought me safe… thus far…" Feeling the young girl's fingers interlock with her own, Michaela knew she was only trying to offer support. Despite turning and smiling weakly in the girl's direction, Michaela couldn't escape the reminder that she had been deceiving Colleen for over a week now. Looking back down at the final words printed in the book, Michaela slipped her hand away from her daughter's grasp.

"And grace will lead me home…" Michaela deflected her eyes downwards, the undeniable guilt over her planned deception reminding her she had to distance herself from those around her… one more day…

**X.O.X**

"Ah… ready to head off?" Matthew looked between Michaela and Colleen, the two having just finished clearing away the plates and cups from their picnic lunch.

"Is everyone ready?" Michaela looked around with a shrug, eager to move from the hard surface of the picnic rug against the rough ground.

"Sure… just gotta go find Brian…" Colleen turned her head to scan through the sea of families and children playing.

"Yeah… I… ah… best say goodbye to Ingrid…" Matthew pulled himself quickly to his feet, all three of them reaching simultaneously for the red patchwork picnic rug.

"I got it…" Matthew won out, Michaela reaching for the picnic basket instead, Colleen, however, beat her to it.

"It's all right…" The young girl smiled lightly, turning and quickly disappearing off to find her younger brother, her speed more in response to Michaela's frown at her over protectiveness.

"Meet ya back at the wagon, Dr. Mike…" Matthew folded the rug up quickly. Michaela was left slightly jarred at the children's less than subtle behavior.

Shaking her head, with a frustrated sigh, she began walking back towards the wagon, oblivious to the older woman approaching her.

"Oh, Dr. Mike… afternoon…" Olive greeted her, squeezing her right arm affectionately.

"Afternoon, Olive… something the matter?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, sleep deprivation and nervousness resulting in her not feeling the least bit sociable.

"Nothin'… don't gotta be something the matter for me to want a friendly chat, does there?" Olive studied Michaela's ragged expression, worried that the events from the night before had had lasting effects.

"Sorry…" Michaela attempted to brush off her earlier comment, her eyes darting from the ground to Olive, and back across the gathering, hoping the children would approach, providing her with an excuse to leave.

"Is all right… just… been worryin' about ya… since last night… and… well… still can't figure it out, ain't like Sully to be so… confronting…" Olive lowered her voice, trying desperately to convey to Michaela that she wanted to be a friend to her, just that she felt she was never around when she might be most needed.

"I know… I must admit it was a shock to me also…" Michaela let herself, for the first time, remember the emotionally traumatic events from the previous night.

"Just thought he'd a known better and all… I mean… think we're all concerned… but to be so aggressive like that… just ain't right… when ya gonna see him?" Olive let her hand slip from Michaela's arm, aware of a distance between them that she found frustrating.

"In all honesty, I'm not thinking about that…" Michaela sighed with relief when Brian came bounding over towards her.

"Ma… can Steven come 'round just for a few hours… apparently Charles saw couple a new frogs down the creek, wanna see if we can catch 'em…" The young boy took a step backwards, realizing he'd barged into the middle of an adult conversation.

"Sorry… ah… Miss Olive…" He hung his head, Michaela looking back down towards the boy, automatically straightening the collar of his shirt.

"Sweetheart… does it really have to be today? You're going to be with Steven all week at school…" Michaela removed her hands, Brian pulling away from her in superficial resentment.

"Aww, please Ma… Matthew said he'd take him back before supper… and I promise we'll be good…" He looked innocently between Olive and his mother, mentally begging Michaela to give in.

"As long as it's all right with Steven's mother…" Michaela acquiesced, Brian disappearing with an exulted glee back to get his friend.

"Growin' up fast, that one… wantin' to be off... doin' his own thing…" Olive shook her head, a nostalgic smile coming to her lips.

"And that is a relief in itself…" Michaela adjusted her stance uncomfortably, the hot sun radiating through the thick fabric of her striped brown dress.

"All been a very troublin' few months…" Olive trailed off, noticeably cringing as she saw Dorothy and Loren approach.

"Afternoon, Michaela… Olive… what a marvelous day…" Dorothy exclaimed, her fiery red hair glistening in the bright sun. Loren remained quietly by her side, his hat clasped nervously between his hands, remembering his conversation earlier that week with Sully.

"Dorothy… Loren…" Michaela and Olive greeted the pair in turn, everyone looking awkwardly around, Dorothy confidently being the first to speak.

"Michaela, gonna be printin' an article 'bout the play… think Brian's gonna be real excited…" She smiled, everyone eagerly launching into the safe topic.

"He ain't gonna be the only one… weren't it superb… those two were just so adorable at the end though… must be real proud, Dr. Mike…" Olive chuckled, everyone nodding in agreement.

"Oh, it had nothing to do with me… they both worked very hard," Michaela disputed, Loren and Dorothy muttering their agreement.

"Colleen sure is lookin' like you more everyday… what with her hair... and the clothes…" Dorothy smiled reflectively, Loren cutting in realistically.

"Oh, don't you be gettin' all silly now… ain't even related… no reason she's gonna be lookin' like Dr. Mike…" Loren rolled his eyes, Olive shooing him away with sisterly contempt.

"Don't be such an old grouch… just coz they ain't real kin… don't mean Dorothy didn't have a point… Ya done a fine job with those youngin'…" Olive smiled, Michaela looking away, pure relief spreading across her face when she saw Colleen and Matthew heading towards her, locked in serious conversation.

"Thank-you, Olive… but… I think everyone's ready to leave… I wouldn't like to think I'd delayed this frog catching expedition…" Michaela sighed cynically, nodding a quick good day and crossing the grass to meet Colleen and Matthew.

"Aww, Dorothy, why'd ya have to get all foolish 'bout Dr. Mike and the children… just makin' it more obvious…" Loren idly dusted the lint from the brim of his hat.

"Weren't me made it obvious, Loren… 'sides… far as we're concerned, Michaela's their Ma… Olive?" Dorothy found herself reluctantly turning to her sister-in-law for confirmation.

"Dorothy's right… ain't givin' birth to the child makes you love 'em…" Olive watched as Michaela and the children disappeared into the distance, Dorothy not able to resist pointing out an obvious fact:

"Kinda hard for you to comment on somethin' like that, ain't it?" Her voice was direct and cutting. Olive crossed her arms in confrontation.

"That ain't fair… all I meant was…" Olive attempted to defend herself, the animosity between the women fuelling instantly.

"I know what you meant. Meant that adoptin' children is the same as havin' ya own - well, it ain't. Ain't nothin' the same as connectin' with that child… feelin' it growin' inside ya… knowin' that you're responsible for that child havin' life… for comin' into the world… then… havin' to let them go…" Dorothy reflected on the recent pain she'd experienced with her son, her gaze lowering, unable to shake the emptiness at not knowing what had become of him in recent months.

"Well… we ain't all been so lucky…" Olive rested her right hand on her hip, feeling the underlying competitiveness being conveyed in Dorothy's words.

"Ladies… please… please… what is it with the two a you… just… you two seem to wanna argue over somethin' for the sake a it… at the end of the day… don't change anything…" Loren placed his hat back on his head, turning back towards the town, fed up with their squabbling.

Dorothy and Olive exchanged bitter glances, neither willing to apologize, both merely silently watching as Loren rolled his eyes and began the stroll back into town.

**X.O.X**

"As cold as… swimmin' in the rain…" Brian finished, turning to his friend seated next to him in the wagon.

"Your turn, Steven… Do somethin' fast…" Brian gripped his knees, looking out to the moving countryside whilst his friend pondered his response.

"As… fast as… a galloping horse…" Steven turned to Brian, Michaela looking back to notice Matthew and Colleen at the back of the wagon, conferring quietly.

"As… fast as… a high-ballin' train…whoo-whoo!" Brian giggled, turning to Michaela.

"Your turn Ma… somethin' fast…" Michaela frowned, her attention divided between driving the wagon, Matthew and Colleen's muttering, and now Brian's request.

"Ah… um… as fast as… a… smallpox epidemic…" Michaela slowed the horse as they arrived by the homestead, the boys jumping from their seats immediately.

"Brian… jacket and trousers… Steven can borrow a pair of yours…" Michaela sighed, the boys reluctantly heading back towards the porch, quickly disappearing inside.

"I'll… ah… put the wagon away…" Matthew appeared to Michaela's left, taking the reins and offering to help her down.

"You two have been… quiet…" Michaela smoothed out her skirt, Colleen looking knowingly between her mother and brother.

"Yeah… ah… I'll ah… see if Brian needs any help findin' those clothes…" Colleen turned back to Mathew with an uncomfortable shrug, before heading quickly towards the homestead.

**X.O.X**

"Stay around the creek, Brian… and Matthew'll be down for you when it's time to take Steven home…" Michaela stood on the edge of the porch, hands resting on the railing. The two boys emerged eagerly through the front door, racing down the steps and off towards the creek.

"Thanks, Ma… gonna catch as many frogs as we can…" Brian turned, his reply rushed.

"Just be careful…" Michaela sighed, watching the boys disappear off into the distance.

Colleen stepped out from the homestead, her arms clutched across her chest, her gaze alternating between the barn and Michaela.

"Ah… Ma… I… reckon ya best come inside… Matthew and I… ah…" She trailed off, the door of the barn opening, and Matthew pacing quickly across the yard.

Michaela frowned, taking a step back from the railing, Matthew and Colleen exchanging confrontational expressions.

"Come on, Ma… gotta have a chat…" Matthew cleared his throat, gesturing nervously to the open door of the homestead. After an uncomfortable glance between each of her children, Michaela reluctantly stepped inside.

"You're doin' all the talkin'…" Colleen whispered, before following behind her. Matthew was left for a moment on the porch, a worried apprehension appearing on his face, before he eventually entered, closing the door firmly behind him.


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56**

"Look…. Do ya… want me to tell Sully?" Matthew brought the palms of his hands back down to the edge of the table in front of him, the three people having sat awkwardly in their chairs for a good ten minutes now, seeming to be going around in circles.

"No…" Michaela responded defiantly, having not appreciated Colleen going behind her back and confiding in her older brother.

"Then… you're gonna tell him." Matthew stated clearly, knowing that trying to have a conversation on a topic Michaela didn't want to address, was like trying to shift a heard of cattle in the rain.

"Ya gotta tell him, Ma…" Colleen tilted her head; Michaela's avoidance had been obvious from the start.

"This isn't something I want to have to discuss with either of you… Colleen… you promised…" Michaela glared disappointedly across the table, frustrated at how something she'd managed to hide for over a month now, had just managed to explode into total chaos, knowing that in less than a day it would all be irrelevant anyway.

"I'm sorry, Ma… but… can't stand to see ya bottlin' it all up… after how upset ya were last night… only went to Matthew coz I didn't know what else to do to help…" The young girl sighed, having expected Michaela's anger.

"Well… talking about me behind my back, certainly doesn't help…" Michaela leant forwards, wearily resting her chin in her right hand.

"Dr. Mike… what… what happened yesterday? Sully…?" Matthew decided a change of subject was in order.

Michaela moved her head slightly, eyes lowering in dismissal of his question.

"Ma, please…" Colleen begged, pushing her hair over her shoulder in frustration.

"This is ridiculous! I give up…" Colleen pushed her chair back angrily, stomping across the room and out through the back door.

"Colleen…" Matthew called, his loyalties divided between his mother and sister, hands pushing down into his pockets in confusion.

"Go to Colleen, Matthew…" Michaela's voice was hollow and weak, her glance moving back up to meet his eyes.

"Ma… I… just assure me you'll come to us if you need support… but you're right… ain't our place to pry… ain't our place to tell ya what to do…" Matthew nodded, as if needing to convince himself he was right.

Michaela took in his words gradually, before rising from her chair, walking slowly around the table, engulfing him in a gentle embrace, more to conceal the tears in her eyes.

"Everything will be all right, Matthew… I promise…" Michaela felt his uncertainty as he hesitantly moved his hands around her back.

"I know, Ma… I trust you…" Matthew pulled away after several moments, comfortable with the realization that at the end of the day, Michaela would deal with this in her own way.

Michaela looked across the room to the back door, as Matthew remembered his sister.

"Better go calm Colleen," he whispered, his feet sliding against the floorboards as he left the room.

Drawing a deep breath, Michaela turned to gaze at her surroundings, a newfound resolution and strength building in her chest. Pacing aimlessly, she reached the edge of the mantelpiece, her eyes resting on the hands of the clock, ticking soothingly in the background. Moving her eye line to the window, Michaela took another breath, arriving beside the wooden chest of drawers, the fingers of her right hand brushing lightly over the corner. Despite her fascination at the material objects around her, Michaela knew deep down they weren't what she was remembering.

After another several steps, her hands found the back of the rocking chair, Michaela now completely aware of the source of her preoccupation. She knew the children would arrive home tomorrow afternoon, to find her gone. She knew they would be devastated, but also knew it was something she had to do.

_It will only be for ten days… two weeks at the most._

Michaela consoled herself, however unable to stop the anguished hurt crossing her face; Brian would be crushed. Nodding slowly, she knew she would leave a note… for what good it would serve. Her gaze lowering, Michaela knew she was nervous for other reasons besides the children. She knew full-well she was endangering her own life; however that no longer seemed to matter.

Dropping her eyes closed, Michaela unconsciously began to think of the worst. What if… she died… what if she was discovered… arrested… She knew she would stipulate in her letter that Olive would take charge of the children… but suddenly hypothetical planning and potential reality became two very different issues.

In that instant, images from her nightmare flooded her mind, Michaela gripping the back of the chair more tightly.

_I would rather die…_

She turned and rotated around to gaze from the window, feeling her shoulders sink with an inaudible sigh, her last though lingering undeniably in her mind.

**X.O.X**

**Monday, 4****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Eww! Brian… get it away!" Colleen squealed, the large green frog being displayed only inches from her nose.

"But he's cute… ain't ya little guy… still tryin' to figure out what to name him… was gonna call him Sully… but then thought it ain't really too nice…" Brian pulled the frog from his sister's face, patting his back whilst he quickly finished his breakfast.

"If ya wanna name him after someone ya hate… call him Benjamin…" Colleen teased, knowing it wasn't right, however still having not forgiven that boy for his earlier torments.

"Nah… coz I'm takin' him to school… what about… Eric?" Brian suggested, Michaela having remained detached from the conversation up until this point.

"Why Eric, Brian?" She frowned, being briefly reminded of an arrogant doctor she had interned with many years ago.

"Dunno…" Brian carefully put the reptile back into the cardboard box on the edge of the table, slipping several small pieces of bacon in after him.

"Just so long as he stays in that box, ya hear?" Colleen waved her fork menacingly in her younger brother's direction, before reaching across and gathering the left over plates from breakfast.

"I promise… can we get goin'… wanna get there early to show Lewis and Charles…" Brian stood up, pushing his chair neatly back under the table, pacing to Michaela's side for a goodbye hug.

"Ya sure you're all right, Ma?" Brian gestured to the fact that Michaela was still in her dressing gown, having informed them minutes earlier that she wasn't feeling well and would be staying home for the day.

"Don't you worry, Brian… Dr. Mike's just takin' it easy… 'bout time…" Colleen smiled out of the corner of her mouth, not able to be more pleased that Michaela seemed to have stopped pushing herself so incessantly.

Michaela looked away from the young girl, instead busying herself in reaching for the pile of plates and cutlery, standing and moving them to the basin.

"Seeya tonight, Ma…" Brian reached for the front door, in his haste, not even turning for a reply.

Michaela swallowed, nodding automatically, and scraping the left over breakfast into a bowl for Pup.

"You just rest…" Colleen glared, rubbing Michaela's back and following her younger brother from the room, the girl's mood somewhat elevated by her mother's actions.

Watching the young Wolf consume the bacon and egg scraps by her feet, Michaela didn't shift her gaze until she heard the door close, waiting several minutes for the sound of Bear pulling the wagon away. Hearing the steady trotting of the horse fading into the distance, Michaela clasped her right hand to her mouth, tears flowing uninhibitedly from her eyes; how could she expect them to forgive her? She could barely forgive herself.

Wiping her face with the back of her hands, Michaela finished the dishes quickly, before crossing the room and beginning to pile assorted clothes on the edge of her bed. She only had a few hours until the stage was due in, knowing she'd have to work speedily to pack, write the letter, and ride Flash into town in time. Running the tips of her fingers over her satin green dress, Michaela reflected for the first time on where she'd be traveling to. Away from the dirt and dust of Colorado Springs; to a place where her recent past was behind her.

**X.O.X**

"Very… nice…. Brian…" the Reverend leaned against the edge of his desk at the front of the room, the young Cooper child having just finished his lengthy show and tell.

"Thanks… oh… and his name is Eric…" Brian added, almost enjoying the look of pure disgust on the girls' faces.

"That's lovely… Now… ah… it's time for recess children… and Brian, since you did such an excellent job at show and tell there… Miss Dorothy told me yesterday that she'd have the new edition of the Gazette finished, with the article about the play… thought you might like to go get it…" Timothy patted the boy's back not expecting to be handed the gangling frog.

"Ah, sure… look after him 'til I get back…" Brian wiped his hands on his trousers, excitedly moving to the back of the room, and commencing his contented jog back into town.

**X.O.X**

Michaela locked the Clinic door securely, having quickly changed into a now much more snugly fitting lilac satin skirt and blue weaved jacket. She saw the stage parked outside the general store, having watched it arrive and unload minutes earlier, waiting as long as she could before emerging, thereby minimizing the chances that she'd be seen.

Stepping down from the edge of the porch, her carpet bag in one hand, medical bag in the other, she took a slow breath, turning and glancing back at the Clinic a final time, before beginning the walk down the main street, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

**X.O.X**

"Thanks, Mr. Bray… ain't it a great article…" Brian smiled, Loren having taken interest in the freshly printed copy of the daily newspaper.

"Sure is, boy… but you deserve it… did a good job the other night… pretty brave a ya too…" Loren ruffled the boy's hair, the pair making their way towards the front porch of the store.

"Yeah… was pretty yucky havin' to kiss Colleen like that… but Sully said it was all right, coz we're family…" Brian justified, licking his lips in childlike discomfort just thinking about it.

"Too right… best hurry back to school now…" Loren smiled, watching the boy disappear through the front door, turning his attention back to several customers that were waiting patiently by the counter.

Brian remained engrossed in the article, carefully reading the paragraph directly concerning him, only looking up for a moment to check how close he was to the edge of the porch step.

"Ma?" He frowned, seeing his mother standing several yards from the stagecoach, the young boy's utterance coming out slowly, indicative of his surprise and confusion.

Michaela froze immediately upon hearing the familiar voice. Her eyes moved from the stage, where she had waited whilst other passengers had their luggage stowed, in the direction of the sound.

"Ma… why ya all dressed up…?" Brian shrugged, continuing to stroll casually across the dusty ground, the article still clutched in his right hand.

"Brian… go back to school…" Michaela swallowed, barely believing she'd come this far for everything to go wrong now.

The young boy arrived by her side, slowly beginning to take in the various indicators around him; Michaela's attire, her medical bag in her right hand, and finally the large carpet bag resting on the ground to her left. His eyes grew wide, realization dawning on him in a split second.

"Ya goin' somewhere… Ma?" The child's voice was high-pitched, chewing on his lower lip as he looked once again from the stage to the carpet bag, and then back to his mother. Within mere seconds, the fear and anxiety was written across his face.

Michaela clenched her teeth, looking away from Brian to see Loren step out onto the porch of the store, his arms folded. Chatting idly with passing customers, the store owner was not really paying attention to the significance of the events before him.

Adjusting her hold on her medical bag worriedly, Michaela leant over to address the child at his own level.

"Sweetheart… I'll just be gone for a few days…" Her voice was smooth and hushed, seeing the stagecoach driver finish with the previous couple.

"Ya leavin' me?" His chin began to wobble, as his left hand moved forwards to grasp her arm.

Michaela looked helplessly from his fingers secured desperately to her sleeve, back up to Loren, their eyes meeting as he noticed her presence.

"Goin' somewhere, Dr. Mike?" The older man raised his eyebrows, his question phrased innocently enough, however when coupled with the firmness of Brian's grip on her arm, sent Michaela into a frenzied panic.

"Brian… please…" She tried to detach his fingers from her jacket, looking up when the stagecoach driver addressed her.

"All ready there, ma'am?" He tipped his hat, reaching for the carpet bag at her feet.

"Thank-you…" Michaela muttered, looking around, between Loren's concerned face, and the attention she was beginning to receive from the townspeople.

"Ma… ya can't go… ain't nothin' to worry about… Mr. Bray… Mr. Bray…" Brian turned, about to race back towards the porch, Michaela's eyes widening in horror, pulling him back immediately by the shoulder.

"Brian, I… come along…" She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hurrying the small child towards the open door.

"Ma? What… I don't…" Brian was almost thrown off balance by the firmness in Michaela's grasp, stepping onto the first rung of the step before he'd realized what was happening.

About to provide him with a more thorough response, Michaela noticed the concern in Loren's eyes, the store owner suddenly realizing she was planning to take the child with her. Turning away from him, Michaela looked back one final time down the main street, her eyes locking spontaneously on Matthew's outline in the far distance, the young man striding casually from the alleyway between the Clinic and Grace's.

"Brian… here… inside… hurry…" Michaela stepped up behind him, nodding with a smile to the driver, taking her seat, the young boy looking with fascination around the small carriage.

Michaela looked down at the boy's hand still clutched to her arm, as she felt the horses pull away into a slow walk. Deflecting her gaze downwards, so as to minimize her chances of being recognized, Michaela pulled Brian closer to her side, not wanting him to see his brother in the distance.

"Ma…" Brian found himself slightly suffocated against the thick wool of her jacket, her grasp not relenting until the horses moved into a definite trot, the stage having moved down to the end of the main street.

Looking up after several moments; Michaela felt the boy's hands pressing defensively against her chest, realizing the strength with which she'd clutched him to her side. Dropping her hand away from his back, she looked down at the boy recovering from his air deprivation. Seeing him look curiously around them once again, before taking in the moving surrounding, he tilted his head up towards her.

"Ma… where we goin'?" His question was not uttered with any trace of fear nor concern, more with an intrigued curiosity.

Michaela rested her left arm back around his shoulders, before moving her gaze back out towards the rugged countryside. The horses had moved into an even gallop, the brown and green landscape blurring to the point of unfamiliarity.

"Home."


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

Colleen knocked again, this time a little louder on the Clinic door. Momentarily reminding herself that Michaela had stayed at home that day, the girl turned the handle, confirming her suspicions when the door didn't open; Brian obviously wasn't there.

Making her way down the main street, arms swaying loosely by her sides, Colleen arrived on the porch of the Mercantile. She headed inside and waited until Loren had finished serving a customer.

"Ah, Mr. Bray… you… ain't seen Brian anywhere, have ya? Said he was comin' over here at recess, over two hours ago… ain't been back to class…" Colleen rested her hands worriedly on the edge of the counter, Loren's face lowering with an uncomfortable frown.

"Well… I… dunno if…" He stuttered, suddenly not sure if he should be disclosing the little display he had witnessed that morning.

"Mr. Bray… I don't understand… is he all right? Miss Dorothy… did Brian come over to get the article this morning?" Colleen was slightly frustrated by Loren's awkwardness.

Dorothy heard her name from across the room, wiping her hands in her apron and standing from her desk.

"Yes, love… hours ago now, though… Loren weren't you reading the article with Brian...?" Dorothy turned towards the elderly man, sensing his ill-ease.

"Aww, yeah… but… he… well…" Loren hung his head, his shoulders tensing nervously.

"Loren Bray… out with it… come on…" Dorothy rested her hands demandingly on her hips, Colleen's eyebrows lowering in concern.

"Did something happen, Mr. Bray?" She leaned over the countertop, Loren looking with uncertainty between the two women.

"Well… don't reckon I was meant to… notice… don't reckon it was planned at all… but… stage come in few hours ago… Dr. Mike…" Loren winced slightly, as Dorothy took a step closer towards him, her voice low and cutting.

"Dr. Mike what, Loren…?" She pressed.

"Aww… Dr. Mike… took Brian…" Loren gripped the edge of the counter, licking his lips in worry.

"Ma left on the stage…?" Colleen's face reddened, worry and concern quickly overtaking any feelings of anger that threatened to surface.

"Yeah… don't think she was countin' on anyone knowin'… then little Brian saw her… and she just bundled him up… practically threw him inside… Didn't know she was goin' nowhere…" Loren looked back towards Dorothy, the editor shrugging in complete oblivion.

"Didn't say nothin' to me… everythin' been goin' all right, Colleen…?" Dorothy reached a hand forward to squeeze the young girl's shoulder supportively.

"No… ah… excuse me… I… need to go find Matthew… he'll ah… work it out…" She dismissed herself quickly, her heart pounding as she ran to Robert E's desperately looking for her brother.

"Loren…!" Dorothy waited until the girl had made it onto the front porch, before turning and scolding the man beside her.

"What ya startin' on me for… thought you wanted me to tell her?" Loren raised his arms to his chest in defense of his actions.

"Ain't that, Loren… why'd ya let Michaela leave like that. Somethin' ain't right. Suppose she doesn't come back?" Dorothy dropped her gaze down to her hands thoughtfully.

"You… you ain't thinkin' she's never comin' back are ya?" Loren rubbed his hand across his chin nervously.

"How should I know? Just think it's strange no-one was told, that's all…" Dorothy frowned, shaking her head slowly.

"But she took the boy… she wouldn't take him if she weren't comin' back… and… no… She'll be back," He cleared his throat decisively, as if deciding the matter right then and there.

**X.O.X**

"Won't Colleen and Matthew be worried… how will they know we've gone?" Brian stretched out his legs, having been content to gaze at the passing countryside for the last hour or so.

"Well, I left a note for Colleen… but… well… we'll need to send them a telegram, tonight, when we stop at Soda Springs," Michaela dropped her voice, not appreciating the looks of curiosity and intrigue she was receiving from the passengers around her.

"We gonna see Grandma?" The idea flashed into his head, Brian turned excitedly around to face Michaela completely.

"No, Brian…" She looked away, studying her medical bag which lay precisely on the seat to her right.

"Then why we goin'?" He raised his hand to her shoulder in interest, Michaela choosing to let the question fade, instead removing his hand and directing the young boy back into a proper seating position.

"Ssh, sweetheart… here… read me the article, Brian…" Michaela reached for the crumpled piece of white paper to Brian's left, placing it in his hands, the boy shrugging and beginning to read quietly.

**X.O.X**

"Matthew… Matthew!" Having found Matthew talking with Robert E., the siblings had ridden back to the homestead at once, Matthew securing the horses whilst Colleen frantically ran inside. Despite believing Loren's account, she still had an ounce of hope that she'd open the door and find her mother and brother playing checkers on the edge of the bed like nothing had happened. All she'd found upon entering the homestead, was a small envelope, placed neatly in the middle of the table.

"Colleen?" Matthew had just returned Flash to her stall, when he heard his sister's alarmed cries.

"Here… I… you read it…" She handed him the letter, hands clutching worriedly to her skirt.

Matthew dusted his hands against his trousers, before hurriedly opening the envelope, his eyes darting between the crisp, white paper and Colleen's panicked face.

"Dear… Children…" Matthew cleared his throat apprehensively before continuing. "The last thing I want is to upset you, however it has become clear that my staying will only make matters worse for everyone. I do not anticipate being away for any longer than two weeks, however, if Matthew decides it is for the best, please stay in town during my absence. This situation is not one I feel is fair on any of us, and I can not blame you for your criticism at my hypocrisy. Should the worst happen…" Matthew looked up, hearing Colleen's voice for the first time.

"Couldn't really get any worse, could it?" Her tone was bitter and slightly sarcastic.

"Reckon she means… if she dies…" Matthew held a somber glance with his sister for several moments, before turning his attention back to the paper before him and continuing.

"… should the worst happen, and I am unable to return, I know Miss Olive will be there for you… Please forgive me for doing this, but I don't see any other way… Love, Dr. Mike." Matthew let his voice trail off into silence, slowly folding the letter, before gradually raising his head upwards to meet Colleen's eyes.

"She… I… I can't believe it…" Colleen gripped her hands tightly against her waist, trying to make sense of the events over the previous week.

"But why'd she take Brian?" Matthew shrugged, a frown breaking out over his face.

"As if running off in the first place weren't bad enough… she had to take our little brother!" Colleen fixed her brown eyes beadily on the letter still held in Matthew's right hand.

"Whoa, Colleen... think she had a pretty good reason…" He raised his arm defensively towards his sister, seeing the anger build on her face.

"What's a good reason for murder, Matthew? Coz that's what this is! She's run off to Denver so she don't have to have that baby!" Colleen gripped her upper arm tightly with her right hand, eyebrows lowering violently in undisguised fury.

"You really think that's what she's doin'? Maybe she just needed some time… needed a break from everyone?" Matthew took a step closer to his sister, tenderly resting his hand on her shoulder, seeing the fear and frustration in her eyes.

"Oh, come on… you don't believe that! Just what do you think that horse ride was all about? Not to mention the weeks of not eatin'… not sleepin'… besides, she as much told me herself… the other day…"

"All right, all right… calm down… ain't nothin' we can do worryin' about it here…" Matthew paused thoughtfully before continuing. "Maybe… maybe it's for the best, Colleen…"

"For the best? How is her killing her own baby for the best?" Colleen shook her head, unconvinced.

"Well… maybe she don't see it like it's her own baby…" Matthew dropped his voice, eyes softening. "After all, sure ain't gonna look like her, now is it?"

"But… I… I don't understand… how could she not even love it a little bit? I mean… whether it looks like her or not… it's still growing inside her… I can't understand how she could be so cruel… she's a doctor, Matthew… she oughta know better!" Colleen watched as her brother carefully slipped the letter back into the small envelope.

"Well, maybe it's all well and good from where we're sittin'… but, I know… somethin' like this happened to you… or Ingrid… wouldn't blame either of ya one bit…" Matthew began a slow pace back towards the front porch. Colleen frowned, her anger reduced, however still apparent.

"Can promise ya if it were me… I'd never wanna kill a little baby… no matter what…" The young girl's view was firm, her narrow-mindedness understandable given her young age.

"I ain't gonna fight with you about it, Colleen… because bottom line is, it ain't you… and I just hope you're never in such a horrendous situation." The pair arrived on the porch, Colleen leaning on the door frame, her self-righteousness renewed.

"Never would be… I woulda rather died…" She crossed her arms once again defiantly over her chest, a shiver flashing down her spine at the very comprehension.

"Maybe… but then you don't got three children to raise. You don't think that thought woulda crossed Dr. Mike's mind? Imagine us having had to tell Brian he'd lost another mother…" Matthew handed the letter back to his sister, gazing back out into the yard thoughtfully. He could still here the sound of Horace's words across the dog soldier's camp. The relief he heard in the older man's voice, banished the lingering fear that he'd have to have broken such news to his little brother.

"You reckon that's why she took him?" The contempt in Colleen's expression melted slightly into considered reflection.

"Maybe… but sometimes, not everything's as logical and straightforward as it seems… we all have our breaking point… maybe Dr. Mike just decided this was hers…" Matthew glanced back at his younger sister, seeing the spark of maturity begin to ignite in her eyes.

"I… maybe… still don't make what she's doing right…" The girl reiterated, however her voice now far less emotional.

"I never said it was right, Colleen… but none of this is right… and I think… Dr. Mike's been through enough… if this is what she believes she needs to do… then… I'll respect that." Matthew nodded his head in decision, the silence that followed served as notification that Colleen no longer wished to continue the argument.

"You wanna go into town or stay here?" Matthew waited several moments before changing the subject, Colleen about to respond quickly, however stopped and pondered her answer for a moment.

"Maybe… we should go stay at the Clinic… just in case there's any news?" Her natural concern was evident through the softness of her speech.

"Yeah… and sure Miss Olive'll let me have a few days off… can come check on the animals… 'least then you'll have people around…" He arrived on the first step of the porch, not expecting the decisiveness in Colleen's voice.

"Matthew… if… she is gonna do this… maybe would be better off if we don't tell no-one about the baby… I mean, Brian don't know… and sure Dr. Mike wouldn't appreciate arrivin' back to the whole town judging what she's done… we can just say she went to Denver for a medical conference, took Brian coz he woulda been too upset by her leavin' him…" Colleen tilted her head, her voice having been quiet yet stoic.

"Right… gonna be all right, Colleen… come on… I'll get the horses together, you pack some clothes and stuff… have supper back in town at Grace's…" Matthew descended the rest of the stairs, as Colleen headed back inside to gather the necessary items.

**X.O.X**

**Tuesday, 5****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Colleen, you sure you're all right… why'd Dr. Mike leave like that? You didn't say nothin' about her leaving?" Colleen and Becky made their way slowly from the schoolhouse, having just stepped onto the bridge.

"Well… we… didn't know she was leavin'… will be fine though… everything's fine…" Colleen tightened her hands nervously around the books against her chest, trying to dismiss her friend's concern.

"Bet Brian's excited, gettin' a holiday in Denver!" Becky chuckled, the two girls passing over the bridge and continuing on into town.

"Reckon she took him so he didn't get all upset by her leavin' him… said she'll only be a couple a weeks…" Colleen trailed off, wanting desperately to change the subject.

"What'd Sully say? Weren't he real shocked?" Becky adjusted the two braids neatly in her hair, before turning back to Colleen for a reply.

"He… ah… don't know, yet… he and Dr. Mike had a fight night a the play… ain't been around since…" The two girls passed the telegraph office and continued on towards the Clinic.

"Oh… so you and Matthew all right stayin' back in town?" Becky gestured forwards, as they arrived on the porch of the Clinic.

"Yeah… at least will give me a chance to clean everything up proper… gonna dust through everything, and got a new box of supplies last week that I still ain't had time to put away…" The two girls turned around quickly to the sound of Horace's calls.

"Oh… Oh, Colleen… here… this come in last night… didn't know ya were in town… From Dr. Mike…" Horace appeared on the porch of the telegraph office, quickly drawing the girls' attention.

Colleen processed his words, swallowing nervously and taking the small slip of paper in her right hand.

"Nothin's the matter, is it?" Becky rested her hand on Colleen's shoulder.

"Nah… just Dr. Mike tellin' us she decided to take Brian…" Colleen rolled her eyes and stuffed the telegram into the pocket of her apron.

"Guess she didn't know you knew already… said she won't be too long though, only goin' to Denver for medical supplies…" Horace shrugged, providing the girl with the limited information he knew.

"Oh… did she say that, Mr. Bing?" Colleen frowned mildly, receiving the impression Horace knew more than he was saying.

"Yeah… last week… you two gonna be stayin' in town until she gets back?" Horace replied tentatively, quickly changing the subject.

"We thought it'd be best…save all the travelin' in and out… also, will be town in case there's any problems… For what good it'll do…" Colleen shrugged, knowing she was poor compensation for a town doctor, however realizing she at least had more medical training than the likes of Jake Slicker.

"Sounds like a good idea…" Horace smiled, before nodding politely and returning back inside the telegraph office.

**X.O.X**

**Wednesday, 6****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Aww, Ma…. I hate these clothes… they itch… and they make me look like a girl…" Brian pulled uncomfortably on the tightly frilled collar around his neck.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about that, Brian… you'll just have to get used to it…" Michaela checked the length of his sleeves and cuffs, before nodding and turning back to the shop assistant.

"I shall also take another in the maroon, thank-you…" She smiled, the young brunette sales assistant disappearing back to the rack of clothing.

"If we ain't seein' Grandma, then why we goin' to Boston, Ma?" Brian frowned, realizing he had to remain in the newly acquired clothing.

"Sweetheart, I've already been over this with you… we're only going to be away a week or so, I need to meet with a very important doctor…" Michaela reached for the young boy's hand, both pacing across the floor of the department store, arriving at the counter.

"About a patient, Ma?" Brian idly began investigating a display of bowties.

"Yes, Brian…" She turned back to the shop assistant, paying for the items and taking the two large boxes.

"Thank-you, morning…" Michaela directed Brian towards the door, the young boy walking very awkwardly, trying to adjust to the new shoes and stockings.

"Now, where, Ma?" The young boy arrived on the edge of the street, looking curiously in both directions.

"Well, the train leaves in a few hours, Brian… we'll go back to the station." Michaela turned to her right, leading the slightly clumsily walking child back up the main street.

"Can we have some lunch, Ma… I'm starvin'…" Brian tugged again at the scratchy material of his trousers.

"If you stop fidgeting, Brian…" Michaela rolled her eyes, and gripped his right hand more tightly as the pair headed back towards the train station.


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

Laying the dusty cloth across the back of the chair, Colleen surveyed her hours of cleaning. Folding her arms with satisfaction over her chest, the young girl glanced around the room; all the supplies were orderly arranged in the cabinet, the examination table was neatly made up with a fresh, white sheet. Looking downwards, Colleen noticed the only area left to tidy was Michaela's desk, and quickly set about returning the pile of textbooks to the bookshelf across the room.

She had just slid the final book back onto the shelf, when the sound of a gentle knock on the wooden caused her to turn quickly.

"Come in…" Colleen crossed the room, and tilted her head with a frown as the door opened. Olive strode into the room boldly, her right hand gripped tightly against her hip, her face drawn into a demanding, yet sympathetic glare of concern.

"Where is she?" The widow folded her arms tightly across her chest, one eyebrow raised in an unquestionable demand.

"She… I mean… Dr. Mike just had to go away for a few weeks… there ah… was a medical conference in Denver…" Colleen brushed her arms along the sides of her royal blue skirt, her gaze deflected from Olive's. Colleen found the deception almost impossible.

"It's all right, Colleen… you don't have to make anything up around me… I know… I think I've known for months…" Olive brought her right hand forwards to rest on Colleen's left shoulder, the pair standing only inches from the examination table.

"I… I don't…" Colleen's eyes lowered, as she shook her head several times in confusion.

"She's pregnant, isn't she…" Olive's voice was resigned, her hands clasped loosely in front of her.

"How did you…?" Colleen cringed momentarily, before turning and taking several steps towards Michaela's desk. Concentrating her efforts on rearranging the various items in front of her, Colleen tightened her jaw, and bit down harder on her lower lip. She felt the relief at another woman's support flood over her, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

"Aww, sshh…" Olive came up behind the young girl, and brought her hands to rest gently on each of Colleen's shoulders.

"I just… I'm scared. I'm worried 'bout what's gonna happen…" Colleen gripped the edge of the wooden desk tightly. Olive ran her right hand gently down the back of the girl's smooth, blond hair.

"I know… and I know you've had to deal with a lot by yourself… maybe it's for the best. Some time away might be what your Ma needs… time to adjust to everything, without everyone passin' judgment…" Olive fanned the girl's hair neatly across her back. Removing her hands, she let them drop either side of her waist.

"Ain't gonna be like that though… she's gone to… get rid of the baby… don't no-one know…" Colleen dropped her head, as she turned around to face Olive. The tears had begun to dry against the young girl's alabaster cheeks.

"What are you sayin', sweetheart? You sayin' Dr. Mike's planning on… ending this pregnancy? Are you sure… because that just doesn't seem like…" Olive was startled by the sound made when the young girl banged her hands on the desk in front of her.

"Well… it's true. Told me herself… been tryin' to kill it for months… that's why she's gone to Denver… Reckons she can just come back, like nothin's happened…" Colleen glanced down at her slightly red palms, rubbing them together as she recovered from her emotional outburst.

"Colleen, I think you're being too hard on Dr. Mike… I mean, imagine… I certainly wouldn't want to be carryin'… makes me ill just to think about it…" Olive shuddered visibly at the notion, her words however, fell on deaf ears.

"How can you act like what she's doin' is right… sound like Dr. Mike…" Colleen paced around the side of the desk, and roughly pulled out the wooden chair. She dropped her weight resignedly down onto it.

"Colleen, you can't for a moment think that your Ma keepin' this baby would be right… it ain't… it's… against God… it's…" Olive folded her arms tightly across her chest, absolute repulsion made her flesh crawl.

"Well if that's true, then she wouldn't be… in this situation…" Colleen collated loose pieces of paper and pencils into a neat pile in the middle of the desk. Olive sighed, with a determined frown.

"Ain't as simple as that, sweetheart… Sometimes… even God… makes mistakes… Babies oughta be brought to this earth outa love…" Olive turned to glance around the now spotlessly clean clinic, Colleen's attention drifted back to small drawer in the desk in front of her. Carefully, she pulled it open, and idly sorted the stationery items neatly into their locations.

"Miss Olive… I…" She was about to further contradict the widow's words, when her eyes fell immediately upon the crisp, partially folded, handwritten letter. A frown came to her face, as she rotated the letter slightly. Colleen managed to discretely glimpse several words.

"I know it's an awful thing to have to think about… but…" Olive noticed the concerned distraction sweep across Colleen's face, and leant over the top of the desk. Her eyes narrowed as she awaited a response from the young girl.

"I… I shouldn't be readin' this… Dr. Mike must have…" Colleen swallowed, she'd quickly taken in the author of the letter, as well as a vague idea as to the subject matter.

"What… is it…?" Olive paced around behind Colleen's back, hesitantly skimming a few opening lines from over her shoulder.

"It's from some doctor… it's… reckon she musta written him for advice on what to do…" Colleen continued reading; Olive did likewise.

"Sure doesn't sound very friendly…" Olive brought her right hand forwards and brushed her fingertips over some of the harsher phrases.

"Sounds like she didn't know it was dangerous… is it really that dangerous, or would he just be sayin' that to try and scare her?" Colleen turned back to Olive, who commenced reading aloud the passage the young girl gestured towards.

"_However skillfully the work may be done, health or life is always imperiled… _your Ma musta been real desperate, to leave even after this…" Olive finished the letter after several silent moments.

"She was…" Colleen's voice was almost inaudibly low and reflective, slowly beginning to piece together the cruel words in the letter before her, with Michaela's frantic departure.

"Surely she wouldn't travel halfway across the country to see this doctor, after getting this response?" Olive muttered, however quickly reevaluating her words and responding to her own speculation. "Then again… Dr. Mike certainly ain't one to take 'no' for an answer… she ain't gonna give up until she gets what she wants… and if she's desperate enough…" Olive pulled away from her strained position over Colleen's right shoulder, sensing the mortal fear hit her.

"But… what if… reading this… it sounds as if she really could… die…" Colleen let the letter fall back onto the desk. Her head lowered in silent thought as she tried to consolidate her previous views with the newly gained information, all the while powerful emotions pressing heavily against her chest.

"Aw, sweetheart… now don't you worry… I'm sure everything will…" Olive had no choice but to trail off; in truth, she wasn't sure of anything, how could she be. And she knew instilling false hope in the young girl's heart was worse than allowing her to face the dark reality.

"How… how could she risk her life… I don't believe that… she'd never do that… not to Brian… she couldn't…" Colleen slipped her right arm against her temple soothingly.

"Ain't gonna do any good thinking the worst… ain't nothin' you can do…" Olive quickly wrapped her left arm around the girl's back, gently taking the letter from the desk and slipping it back into the drawer.

"Just wish there was. Doesn't even sound like she's gone to Denver… reckon that was all a lie too…" Colleen pushed the drawer closed, as if symbolically attempting to shut off the nightmare from her very consciousness.

"Well, where else would she…" Olive answered her own question, Colleen however, provided the verbal affirmation.

"Boston…"

**X.O.X**

"Brian… I've told you… slow down…" Michaela pulled back wearily on his arm, the young boy nevertheless managing to slip from her grasp. He jumped quickly up the several steps and turned back to his mother briefly.

"Hurry up, Ma… wanna get a good seat…" Brian's voice faded off as he disappeared eagerly into the carriage.

"Brian… I…" Michaela sighed and rolled her eyes, before she graciously accepted the young porter's hand as he assisted her up into the carriage.

"Thank-you…" She smiled, and slipped her right hand into his as she stepped up awkwardly from the platform edge.

"You're welcome, Ma'am… enjoy your trip…" The young man tipped his cap with a genuine smile.

Brian continued his frantic jog along the elegantly carpeted corridor of the carriage. His head darted keenly in and out of doorways, searching for an empty compartment. Eventually finding one, he settled himself by the window, both elbows rested on the ledge, his attention drawn to the array of movement on the platform.

"That's it, young man… I refuse to spend the next two weeks chasing after you. From now on, you're to remain within my sight unless otherwise instructed. Understood?" Michaela stood in the doorway, her voice hoarse and direct.

"Sorry, Ma… Was just excited… and wanted to get a window seat…" Brian turned quickly to acknowledge her presence, before enthusiastically returning his gaze back out through the window.

"Well, you've succeeded then, haven't you…" Michaela took several steps into the small compartment, and arranged her medical bag on the seat.

"Yeah… can see everything… how long we gonna be on the train, Ma?" Brian glanced back towards her for a split second, his childlike fascination reignited by the smartly dressed conductor on the platform, whistling at the eminent departure.

"We'll arrive in Boston Friday morning, sweetheart…" Michaela took her seat next to him, her left hand resting on his shoulder, surprised at how glad she was of the company.

"Good… two nights… last time was real fun bein' on the train at night, tryin' to sleep with the rocking back and…" The young boy trailed off, as he noticed the middle-aged couple enter the small compartment through the small doorway.

The older man's hair was white, and he reminded Brian of a nicer looking Mr. Bray. With him, was a similar aged woman, her hair drawn into a tight gray bun behind her head. Brian frowned unconsciously at the indignant manner in which the woman directed her husband to his chair.

"Over there, Matthew… no there… I don't fancy having to sit by the window…" She dusted her hands against her skirt, the man complying meekly.

"I do hope you don't mind if we join you… only other available compartment was a lady with a very noisy young child, and I just couldn't bear that…" The woman addressed Michaela with a confident, yet not unfriendly nod.

"Please…" Michaela forced a small, polite smile, Brian adjusting his position beside her, fearful that this bold, slightly harsh woman may find fault in his seating.

"Thank-you," The woman replied crisply, not for a moment having anticipated any reply to the contrary.

"This your first train trip, son?" The man slipped his hat from his head, placing it gingerly on the seat between himself and the window.

"Oh, no, sir… got to come to Boston last year, too…" Brian hesitantly tore his gaze from the window, however only long enough to answer the man's question.

"Did you, now… aren't you a lucky little boy… I'm Matthew…" The man extended his hand warmly, Brian reacted immediately with a bright smile.

"Hey, that's my brother's name, too! I'm Brian…" He grinned, his eagerness now much more apparent.

"Well, ain't that something… and is this your mother?" Matthew rested his hands against the delicately patterned fabric of the bench, his moustache twitching endearingly as he turned to Michaela.

"Uh-huh… she's a doctor…" Brian gestured with a proud smile, Michaela feeling her cheeks redden with momentary embarrassment.

"Ain't never met a lady doctor before, neither…" Matthew nodded courteously, Michaela glaring with a chastising frown in Brian's direction.

"Please, it's really…" Michaela attempted to disregard the attention, being cut off by a sharp utterance from the older woman opposite her.

"Didn't know they allowed such a thing…" Her voice was succinct, however her meaning indiscernible. Michaela tilted her head subtly, unsure as to whether the woman approved or not.

"Well, ah…" Michaela stopped mid-sentence when the white-haired man's voice again filled the surrounding space.

"What'd ya have to say somethin' like that for… think it's a great thing…" Matthew contradicted the woman's words immediately.

"Did I say it wasn't? I just was unaware that women were permitted to train as physicians, is all. Honestly, Matthew, you are forever arguing with me…" Her tone was slightly harsher; however her facial expression remained unemotional and pleasant. Michaela had begun to receive the impression that such bickering was common between the pair.

"Wasn't arguin', Marilla… I'd know better than to dare argue with you…" Matthew looked towards the young boy, his reply having been abruptly terminated by the sounds of Brian's chuckling.

"Brian…" Michaela chastised, Brian lowering his head and ceasing his noise for an instant.

"Sorry… just sounds like Sully talkin' about you…" He giggled several times, before realizing his contribution was not warmly received; Michaela had looked away coldly, and Matthew and Marilla had merely frowned in mild curiosity.

"Looks like we're just about to get goin' now…" Matthew smiled and changed the subject swiftly, directing Brian's attention back out onto the platform, as the train slowly began to pull away from the station.

"Look, Ma… see, we're movin'…" Brian chewed excitedly on his lower lip, reaching contentedly for Michaela's sleeve, not understanding why his eagerness was not being replicated by the adults around him.

**X.O.X**

Colleen sat, head rested in her hands, gaze lowered down towards the desk in front of her. Olive remained less than a foot to her right, a hand softly clasping the young girl's shoulder.

"Just gotta try and put it outa your mind… trust that she'll do what she thinks is best…" Olive whispered, having no better words of comfort.

"But she ain't thinkin' at all… just wish there was something we could do to stop…" Both women looked up as the door across the room suddenly opened, causing each to visibly startle.

"What's… Colleen…?" Matthew stepped into the Clinic, pushing the door closed quietly behind him, looking between Olive and his sister, having sensed the tension in the room.

"It's all right, Matthew… Colleen's told me about Dr. Mike's… predicament…" Olive turned back to the young girl, who reached again for the letter that had been returned to the small desk drawer.

"Matthew… you… you gotta do something… here, just found this…" Colleen pushed the chair back, rose to her feet, and crossed the room to her brother's side.

"Now tell me what she's doin' ain't a problem…" Colleen raised a single eyebrow, clasping her hands defiantly around her waist, waiting several moments for Matthew to begin reading the correspondence.

"You went snoopin'? This ain't any of our business…" Matthew lowered his eyes back to the slightly crumpled pages before him, having only managed to get through the opening paragraph.

"How can you say that… from the sounds a this, Dr. Mike's gonna end up killing herself tryin' to get rid a this baby… ain't ya at all concerned?" Colleen looked across to Olive for support, the young girl's shoulders dropping in defeat.

"Still don't think it's somethin' we've got a rite to have any say over… it's up to her… and… well, she's a doctor, she'd know more than you or I put together about… stuff like this…" Matthew frowned, slowly beginning to take in the directness and arrogance of the letter.

"But what if she doesn't care about the risk… isn't there anything we can do… can't we stop her?" Colleen brought her right thumb to her mouth, unconsciously beginning to chew on the nail.

"Just a minute…" Matthew raised his right arm to calm his sister, quickly finishing the handwritten letter before him. "Right… well, from the sounds of it she'd be mad to try and see this guy… but also… we don't know how much she's told him. Maybe once she can meet with him… or someone else… maybe once she talks properly with someone… they'll be able to help her… I still think it's wrong for us to chase after her… we don't even know where she's really gone…" Matthew folded the two pieces of paper back neatly, taking several steps across the room and sliding the letter back onto the edge of the desk.

"Well, if she's gone to see that guy… then she's gone to Boston… which would make sense… she'd know more people there… I just feel useless waitin' around like this, each day… How are we even gonna know if… I mean, what if, something happens and Brian's left all by himself, he won't know what to do… just can't believe she's bein' this heartless… this selfish and cruel…"

"Colleen, I think your brother's right… your Ma needs to deal with this on her own… and whatever she decides, I think you need to find a way to accept that." Olive's face was soft and nonjudgmental. Matthew locked eyes with her instantly in agreement, before bringing his right hand to his sister's upper arm, stroking her shoulder gently in an effort to soothe her.

"Why am I the only person who thinks this is wrong!" Colleen's voice cracked, as she arrived by the door and threw it open.

"Wait… where're ya…" Matthew jogged quickly after her, as Colleen pulled away from her brother's grasp. She arrived out on the porch.

"Supper… Grace's… I can't think about this anymore," she replied weakly, as Matthew and Olive exchanged glances.

"As good an idea as any, I'd say…" Olive patted the young man's back as they moved through the doorway.


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

Michaela felt the numbness along her right arm intensify, not having realized she'd been asleep until her eyes fluttered open. Removing her stiff arm from the windowsill, she looked around the tiny compartment, illuminated only by the moonlight. Both Matthew and Marilla had managed to fall asleep on the uncomfortable bench seats, and Brian rested snuggly against her left shoulder.

Taking several quiet breaths, Michaela watched her left hand run up and down the boy's arm, and in that moment was glad of his company. Feeling his head nuzzle more firmly against her shoulder, Michaela noticed the dull ache radiating from her lower back. She awkwardly managed to disentangle herself from the sleeping child, and pulled herself to her feet, moving as slowly and quietly as possible, so as not to wake anyone.

Once she was alone in the narrow corridor, Michaela could hear her discomfort voiced in an exhausted sigh. Realizing that slow walking was probably going to be the only way to relieve the pain, she reluctantly drew her right arm around, and softly began to massage the small of her back. Michaela raised her head gently, thankful that the pain had minimized itself, and commenced an even pace along the corridor.

Having taken no more than four steps, Michaela dropped her hand instantly at the sound of an unfamiliar female voice.

"So… when are you due?" The woman's light-hearted giggle trailed off into the silence of the carriage.

"I beg your pardon?" Michaela's startled response was obvious, her sharp words coming out in automatic defense.

"I'm sorry… I just… well, I've just gone five months… was comin' out to do the exact same thing. It's impossible to get any decent sleep cramped up on those hard seats," The woman's voice, although slightly ragged, continued in moderate chirpiness. She brought both hands to her back, a smile of sympathetic understanding coming to her lips.

"Oh… I…" Michaela gradually took in the woman's genuine affection and non-threatening tone, before considering her tentative reply. "I'm nineteen weeks…" she felt the honest words slip easily from her mouth, reminding herself confidently that no-one knew who she was out here; there was no need to continue pretending.

"Why on earth we chose to travel, I'll say…" The younger woman rolled her eyes with another warm smile, both women making their way slowly along the corridor.

"I wasn't really expecting the discomfort to be this severe…" Michaela glanced back over her shoulder, as the pair arrived in the larger, more open area at the end of the carriage.

"Must be your first," the brown-haired woman's reply was tainted with humor. Michaela's acknowledging nod was almost undetectable, as she turned to gaze through the window of the door, the night sky decorated only by a collection of stars and the small, crescent-shaped moon.

"Well, if it's any consolation, my second pregnancy has been a lot easier… all the while I was carrying Christian, I was just too busy fretting about something going wrong… I thought every little pull or pain was a disaster… everyone says how resilient babies are… but I didn't realize it until I'd been through it for myself…" She leant back up against the wooden wall of the first compartment, studying Michaela's distracted gaze through the window.

"Don't mind me going on… I'm Margaret… Margaret Armstrong…But please call me Meg, everyone does." She extended her hand politely forwards, tilting her head, unsure as to whether the gesture would be reciprocated. The woman standing opposite her appeared uneasy, nervous even, although the uncomfortable journey may have just whittled away at her nerves.

"Michaela Quinn… sorry… I…" Michaela pulled her mesmerized gaze away from the window and shook her hand. The younger woman's small face appeared pale against the moonlight.

"Oh, don't apologize, please… my husband is always complaining he has to tell me things three times before I hear them," Meg continued, having noticed Michaela's eyes drift back towards the night sky.

"Michaela?" Meg repeated her name, her voice rich and beckoning.

Michaela frowned, the sound of her name having pulled her from the jumbled thoughts clouding her mind.

"Is everything all right? You seem… distracted…" Meg smiled weakly, remembering the blurred confusion that had plagued her throughout her first pregnancy.

"No… I… well, yes, I suppose I am… I'm just… not really used to this…" Michaela dropped her eyes unconsciously downwards, before raising her head, locking eyes with Meg's.

"I was exactly the same… everyone was just so excited for us… and offering me advice… and for a few weeks, I just couldn't take it in. My mother loved to joke with me about it… she always calls it 'baby brain'… forgetting things, crying at a minute's notice… those sorts of things that no-one really talks about…" Meg glanced momentarily back up the corridor, noticing the small boy appear from a compartment. Thinking nothing of it, the younger woman turned back to Michaela, and waited patiently for a response.

"And it hardly makes sense to plan a trip across the countryside on top of all that, now does it?" Meg chuckled at their collective foolishness, before continuing on a more serious note. "But with David's work… we really didn't have much of a choice… and thought moving would be easier now than leaving it any later… besides, only two days by train now… you… ah… traveling on your own?" Meg clasped her hands affectionately over her rounded stomach, looking back up towards Michaela, hopeful of a reply.

"No… well… no…" Michaela sighed, her quick instinct predicting Meg's reply before the words had even left her lips.

"Your husband…?" Meg's voice was placid enough, however Michaela's reply overly succinct.

"No," Michaela's reply was closed; her cold facial expression quickly saw Meg move into a new subject.

"Well… Christian really wants a baby brother… but I can tell David would like a little girl… I know it's what everyone says… but I'm truly not bothered… I'm sure we're not likely to stop at two… David and I are both from large families… what about you, Michaela?" Meg brushed a loose strand of hair back over her left ear; a buoyant young woman, she was determined to extract a response from the shy, reserved, older lady.

"I'm the youngest… of five daughters, actually…" Again her reply was curt, however the lingering inflection in the last three words conveyed to Meg that her persistence was beginning to pay off.

"So you'd prefer a boy… try and break with that tradition…?" Meg's eyes glimmered in friendliness, seeing the awkwardness return, although this time much more briefly, to the woman's face.

"I… haven't really thought all that much about it… I'd sooner just wait…" Michaela felt her mouth dry at the deception pouring from her lips. In the same moment her eyes dropped closed for an instant, torturous hallucinations appearing on cue behind her darkened eyelids.

"Probably a lot easier that way… at least you can just have two names at the ready… although… with Christian… that was never going to be his name… For months, David and I had decided on Emily if it was a girl, and Patrick, if it was a boy… as soon as he was born… I knew he weren't a Patrick. He had the most stunning blond wisps of hair… I knew he needed a softer… more angelic name…" Meg reminisced for a moment, as she adjusted her position against the wall. Michaela saw the moment as invitation to do likewise and delicately pulled the lilac satin skirt several inches higher from her waist.

"Oh… I was hopeless when it came to clothes with Christian… determined I weren't about to wear those hideous baggy dresses my friend's had. Worked out fine in the end, my skirts just came up about an inch every month… until I was so big I didn't care anymore… and eventually gave in for the last few weeks." Meg studied Michaela as she hesitantly looked between the younger woman's stomach and then back to her own.

"Don't you worry… why, I didn't start showing with Christian till I was almost five months… just depends… seemed to just happen overnight… went to bed… woke up… and there he was… been more gradual this time around…" Meg stopped abruptly at the sound of Michaela's hesitant response.

"I know, medically… but… I… when did you first…" Michaela fought against the physician calling on her to use more technical terms. She knew she had to say it more plainly; say it for what it was: "How many weeks were you when you first… felt him?" There; she'd said it; she'd vocalized it. The mere notion caused a faint wave of nausea to wash over her; however, Michaela looked up, trying to focus on Meg's face for the reply.

"Think every woman's different… but surely your doctor can tell you more about that, can't he…?" Meg's eyebrows lowered, sensing a slightly naïve uncertainty about the way in which the question had be put to her.

"Oh… I know it's meant… I mean… apparently it's around four months… I was just wondering when you…" Michaela couldn't believe she was asking such a question, although this young woman certainly appeared to be friendly enough, somehow, such a personal question still remained outside of Michaela's realm of comfort.

"You know… I… really don't remember, I'm afraid… but then I weren't able to see a doctor until several weeks before he was born… so all the information I was receiving was from friends and family… and so I really was in the dark a lot of the time… you've not seen a doctor yet?" The concern in Meg's voice was perhaps more of an overreaction than was justified; however she was beginning to gain an understanding of Michaela's temperament; if she'd had no support, no wonder she was feeling overwhelmed.

"I… well… actually… that is why I'm traveling to Boston… there are several prominent physicians that I envisage will be able to... be of assistance." Michaela heard the detached professionalism once again surface in her voice, and willed it away in frustration.

"Oh… you're not from Denver? Because the one I…" Meg again trailed off when she noticed Michaela's dismissive head movement.

"Sure seems like a long journey… when there are perfectly good doctors in Denver…" Meg shrugged, sensing that Michaela seemed uncomfortable with the direction of their current conversation. "How's your back?" she lowered her voice, looking back towards the long corridor.

"Much better… probably best we try and obtain some rest?" Michaela decided, gesturing courteously for Meg to proceed along the corridor before her.

"Listen… I'm sorry if I said anything to offend you… Once you've been there the first time… tend not to… see it as such a private thing… 'least I didn't…" Meg reached across to rest her right hand against Michaela's arm lightly.

"You didn't… I should be the one apologizing to you… I'm afraid I'm not the best company at the moment…" Michaela looked down at the woman's delicate fingers against the fabric of her jacket. It was the first time in almost four months that another adult had touched her without expecting her to pull away.

"I understand. If you wish to talk… anytime. I'm sure I'll find you out pacing alongside me at some stage tomorrow night… that's if you don't run into my boisterous two year-old in the meantime." Meg smiled brightly, slipping her right hand back to her side and turning towards her compartment.

"Goodnight…" Michaela whispered, before slipping through the door, Brian's 'sleeping' body twitching slightly in response to her footsteps.

**X.O.X**

**Thursday, 7****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Cloud Dancing turned his head slightly, hearing the distant barking of the approaching wolf. Smiling dismissively across at his wife, he gestured to Sully still many yards away. Snowbird nodded in silent understanding, and returned her attention to the bowl of food in front of her. A smile came to her lips as she watched the two men meet.

"Did it help?" Cloud Dancing referred immediately to the quest Sully had spent the previous four days undertaking.

"Yes. Even though I had my doubts." He responded quietly, glancing down at his slightly tattered clothing.

"But you have found hope once again…" Cloud Dancing's reply was phrased with conclusion, not as a question, and as such, he was not expecting Sully to continue.

"Not sure I'd call it that… I… was able to find energy… able to see that I need to put my selfish feelings aside. That the future I saw for us both is not what is important. And if I'm going to be the friend Michaela needs, I can't be holding onto a dream that will never be…" Sully lowered his head, trying desperately to ignore the pained regret in his heart.

"Never is a long time, my brother… but you are on the right path. For as long as you are working towards a goal that may be out of reach, you will not see what is right in front of you. If we are looking towards the sunset, we may not see the rocks that lay in our path." Cloud Dancing placed an arm strongly against Sully's shoulder, hoping his words would be understood.

"Seems like there are so many… but I've given her enough time. Even if she's still angry at me… and I can't blame her for that… but even if she is, then that's how it will be. I would rather that than to have nothing…" Sully nodded slowly, patting his thigh to beckon the wolf to his side.

"Come… we must get you some food…" Cloud Dancing noticed his friend's nervousness, and looked momentarily across to Snowbird, before directing his gaze back to Sully.

"I… should head back into town…" The younger man objected immediately, however, his voice was raspy and weak.

"You need to be strong first. You have not eaten in four days… sit with us… it will not take long…" Cloud Dancing insisted, and raised his right arm back towards the small group of villagers settling down for their morning meal.

Sully's eyes flickered for several moments. His head turned back in the direction of the town, before reluctantly giving in and following his brother towards the small gathering.

**X.O.X**

Michaela's eyes flew open at the sound of movement across the confined space.

"Oh, sorry dear… didn't mean to wake you," Matthew slowly finished folding the small blanket that had spent the previous night draped over his legs.

"It's not a problem… I wasn't asleep," Michaela adjusted her shoulders uncomfortably, looking down to see Brian clutched peacefully under her left arm.

"Sure makes it hard… looks like someone had a pleasant enough rest though…" Matthew gestured with a warm smile down to the young boy, his fine, blond hair splayed messily across his forehead, eyes still closed in sleep.

"You're right," Michaela brought her left arm back across Brian's sleeping form, gently rousing the child from his slumber.

"Aw… don't… don't wanna go to school…" Brian squinted his eyes closed firmly, and buried his head in his hands.

"Brian… you're not going to school… wake up, sweetheart…" Michaela rolled her eyes, as Matthew chuckled lightly under his breath. She again squeezed the child's shoulder, and pushed him up into a sitting position.

"Huh… where… oh… sorry, Ma… forgot…" Brian opened his eyes blearily, as he slowly became aware of his surroundings.

"It's almost time for breakfast…" Michaela began fixing his slightly lopsided crop of hair, as Brian straightened out his jacket, aware of an obscure thought nagging at him.

"Matthew… oh… why didn't you wake me sooner…" Marilla removed the lacy handkerchief from over her eyes, as she turned to her brother in criticism.

"No need to worry… we're not late. Only just woke up myself," Matthew raised a hand to her wrist, trying to soothe her. He knew his sister well enough to sense the fear of making a spectacle of herself by oversleeping, was the motivation behind her chastising outburst.

"Well… that's… all right then. Morning Michaela… Brian… I trust you both slept… as well as can be expected given the accommodations," Marilla brought her hand to her gray bun, carefully removing the pins, she allowed the long braid to trail down her back.

"Mornin' Ma'am," Brian replied vaguely, a frown crossing his face, trying to remember if the conversation he'd overheard the previous night was a dream or not.

"Ah… well… must splash some water over my face at the very least…" Marilla got awkwardly to her feet, crossing the room slowly to the door when the sound of the young boy's voice caused her to startle; albeit from content rather than tone.

"How come you didn't tell me you were havin' a baby, Ma?" Brian had determined the dialogue he'd been eavesdropping on from the corridor the night before was true. After all, it made sense… his mother was getting fat… and maybe that's why Colleen had sworn him to secrecy. In an instant his brain began moving very quickly.

Michaela had been fastening the buttons of her maroon jacket when she'd heard the single, heart stopping word. _Why? Why right then? He'd not mentioned it for the past four days; why right in that moment? _She felt her breath catch in her throat, unable to even look upwards, feeling three pairs of eyes locked on her for a reply.

"Brian… sweetheart… I thought Colleen had discussed it with you?" Michaela slowly lifted her gaze to glance to her left, Brian's mouth pulled into an awed grin. Michaela's reply was more in effort to change the subject than to provide an answer to his question.

"Uh-uh… Does that mean you and Sully are gettin' married? I thought you were mad at him," He knelt up eagerly on the edge of the seat, resting an arm affectionately on her shoulder, not comprehending that his intrigued utterance should be causing more than a little controversy.

Matthew got to his feet, unwittingly drawing attention to his presence when he heard the cracking sound of his knees.

"Excuse me," he smiled warmly, sensing the awkwardness of the subject matter, and desiring nothing more than to make himself very scarce, very quickly. Arriving by the narrow doorway, his sister's paralyzed intrigue blocked his way.

"Marilla… let's ah… go eat…" He applied an encouraging pressure to her upper back, knowing immediately that his older sister would not pass up the opportunity for some concerned meddling.

Brian, on the other hand, remained oblivious to the movement around him, his eyes lit up by the realization that had just dawned on him, not giving Michaela a chance to reply.

"Ma… Ma, is that why you got mad at Sully the night a the play… coz you didn't wanna tell him about the baby… how come you didn't wanna tell him… how come Colleen knows… but Sully doesn't…?" Brian tilted his head, tapping his fingers on Michaela's shoulder slightly impatiently. This was exciting, and she wasn't answering him.

"Brian, I don't think this is an appropriate time," Michaela's voice was low and tentative, her words coming out in a much breathier manner than was her usual speech pattern. She reached for his right hand, brushing it deliberately from her shoulder, wanting nothing more in that instant than to literally melt into the floor.

"Oh, please don't mind us… I… perhaps Matthew is right… Brian… why don't you show Matthew the dining car…" Marilla extended a hand, expecting the young child to leave his mother's side without hesitation.

"Gotta come have breakfast, Ma…" Brian got to his feet, pulling lightly on Michaela's right hand until she reluctantly acquiesced.

"Absolutely dear…" Matthew sighed at Marilla's predictable interest, slipping in his ever-quiet way out into the corridor, the young boy appearing behind him.

"Sure sound happy about that, son… thought you already had a brother, though?" Matthew turned his head to address the blond-haired child. Brian, after having ensured Michaela was following behind them, wasted no time in returning his attention to the conversation, his delight apparent through his slightly higher-pitched voice and speed of diction.

"Yeah… Matthew's sixteen… Colleen's fourteen…" Brian failed to see what that had to do with anything.

"Well, then ya already got both a brother and a sister… suppose you got a point though, will be different you gettin' to be the big brother now…" Matthew ran his fingers through his moustache, hearing his sister's inquisitive voice commence behind him.

"Oh… just wish you'd said something last night… can't have been very comfortable having to sleep in your condition… I wouldn't have even known to look at ya… when are you due, dear?" Marilla's eyes glimmered, regret tinged with jealousy that she'd never had a child of her own.

"I…" Michaela suddenly realized she didn't actually know the answer to that question. She'd calculated backwards, but never forwards. Fortunately that didn't seem to matter, the older lady's chatter continued regardless.

"Not that that means anything to a baby… why… my sister had planned the exact dates of both her youngin', neither arrived on time. Your boy certainly seems over the moon about it though… and who is this Sully character… certainly not Brian's father? And what about Brian's father… weren't you married to him?" Marilla idly muttered sentence after sentence, unaware of the anger and anxiety sweeping through every muscle of Michaela's body. It wasn't until she heard the physician's choked reply that she turned back and noticed the tears unwillingly collected in her eyes.

"I'd really rather not discuss it…" Michaela swallowed, her teeth habitually gripping her lower lip as her eyes dropped away from Marilla's and down to the crimson carpet they were slowing walking along.

"Is Sully your Pa, son?" Matthew and Brian continued several feet ahead of Michaela and Marilla.

"No, my Pa… left us… came back… but then went off again on business. Sully's like a Pa, though… he and Ma been friendly for a few months… thought they were gonna get married… then… then Ma didn't want him around… and she yelled at him… but he doesn't know she's havin' a baby…" Brian narrowed his eyes, having considered the chain of events as he relayed them; idly wondering for several moments just when his father would be returning.

"Well… in any case… running away like this is hardly going to solve anything. Surely as a doctor, I would have thought you'd known better than to get yourself into such a… predicament. What must your family think? If you ask me, you need to do right by your child, and marry this Sully character without delay. No child deserves to come into this world without a father… nor should one be expected to suffer for their parent's… improprieties," Marilla had remained unaware of the compounding effects her words had had on Michaela.

"I didn't… ask you…" Michaela drew a panic-stricken breath, reaching for the material of her full skirt and breaking out into a hurried pace, as she turned back away from Marilla's side.

"Ma…?" Brian frowned, looking up as Michaela, a hand covering her tear-stained face, moved down the corridor in the opposite direction, her distress masked as elegantly as she could manage.

Brian looked awkwardly between Matthew and the older woman, as Michaela slipped back through the carriage door, disappearing from view.

"Marilla, you been pryin'?" Matthew patted the young boy's shoulder consolingly, throwing a disappointed glare across at his sister.

"Certainly not… just… curious… not my doin' if she can't handle the reality of her situation," Marilla felt the small child push past her and worriedly run after his mother.

"Now look what ya done… made little Brian upset too," Matthew muttered, turning away and arriving by the other door which led to the dining car.

"Well, it's hardly my fault…" Marilla shook her head in confident denial, following after her brother.

Michaela had continued mindlessly through the carriage, until she'd arrived outside, the small open area secured with thin black railings. There was no fighting it; Marilla's words were the truth… or at least they were the truth as everyone would see them. Michaela sighed, a familiar face appearing in her mind, realizing that the black marks against her had nearly doubled since she'd arrived in Colorado Springs.

"Stop it," she demanded to herself, taking several steps closer to the railing as anguished tears ran freely from her eyes.

"You're doing all your can. Crying isn't going to solve anything, Michaela…" She gripped the thin railings tightly in her outstretched hands, the fury within her being decompensated into the strength with which her palms locked around the black iron bars. She glanced down at the edge of the train, moving speedily along the tracks that lay below her.

_That would certainly be one solution…_

Michaela let her eyes drop closed, tiredness and general physical discomfort washing over her as she momentarily assessed her internal state. Opening her eyes slowly, Michaela realized her gaze was still locked on the tracks below. An overpowering emptiness consuming her, Michaela allowed herself to lean forwards ever so slightly, until she felt her upper body squeezed between her arms, tilted several inches beyond the safety of the railings.

Her eyes closed once again, conscious of nothing other than the wind racing through wisps of her hair, the rushing air cooling her face, and the railings pressing firmly against her lower body. Michaela knew she'd probably only have to step up onto the first bar of the black steel, and, with the force of the wind…

"Ma?" Her thoughts were spontaneously pulled towards the child's voice. Michaela pulled herself back, almost guiltily from the edge of the railings, looking down innocently at her whitened knuckles around the chilling steel.

"Ma… it's all right, Ma…" Brian carefully took half a dozen or so small steps until he had arrived by Michaela's left side, looking between her clenched hands and the tears still visible on her cheeks. He frowned, seeing her fingers tighten more firmly around the rail, looking up again as he heard her sobs intensify.

"I'm sorry I was eavesdroppin', Ma… sorry I… I don't understand, Ma. You worried Sully ain't gonna wanna marry ya? Said he would though… didn't he?" Brian reached his right hand forwards, until it came to rest over Michaela's left fist.

"Sweetheart… you're too young… it's… complicated…" Michaela swallowed, looking down at the sensation of the boy's warm touch against her skin. If he couldn't fully comprehend the situation, he was at least attempting to convey his support.

"But you're sayin' I'm gettin' older now, Ma… said I ain't a child no more… why can't you and Sully just get married? Then no-one has to know ya havin' a baby 'til then…" Brian, despite his tender age, knew that you weren't allowed to be pregnant and not married, and he thought the situation could be simply resolved.

Michaela remained silent, her eyes still locked on Brian's small hand clutched on top of hers. She knew it must seem much simpler to him than was the reality; and foolishly considered his suggestion for a fraction of a second. An unnerving chill ran down her back, her eyes dropped closed once again, multiple images flashing behind her dark eyelids.

"No," Michaela muttered weakly.

Brian hung his head upon hearing his mother's dejected reply. Pausing for a moment, his attention quickly shifted to another, in his mind, equally important concern.

"Can we 'least go have breakfast, Ma… Matthew reckons they might have pancakes…" Brian lifted his hand away from hers, turning back towards the narrow door still ajar behind him.

Michaela drew a replenishing breath, the cool, morning air biting against her face. Sensing the child leave her side, Michaela opened her eyes and moved her head around to check his location.

"Ya like pancakes, don't ya, Ma?" Brian smiled, his slightly crocked teeth exposed, as he extended his right hand forward once again encouragingly.

Michaela appeared to consider his question for a remarkably long time, before nodding softy and taking a step back towards him. She felt his small hand interlock with her own.

"I'll sit with Matthew's wife if ya want, Ma… stop her talkin' to ya… how come women like that wanna talk so much… just like Miss Dorothy…" Brian pondered to himself, waiting for Michaela to slip through the door and back into the carriage before he did likewise.

"Might be best if we just sat by ourselves, sweetheart…" Michaela tilted her head slightly, expecting a disheartened sigh from her son.

"All right, Ma…" Brian trailed off, about to supplement his reply with an additional question, however something convincing him against it. Looking back towards his mother, he glanced thoughtfully between her stomach, her face, and back to her stomach again, before turning and continuing to lead the way through the carriage towards the dining car.


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60**

"Ya gotta eat somethin', sweetheart… here… some nice crispy bacon just been fried up," Grace gently pushed the still sizzling rashers of bacon onto Colleen's plate.

"Really not that… thanks…" Colleen sighed, lowering her eyes unenthusiastically towards the plate.

"You two still not got any word on when Dr. Mike's comin' back…" Grace raised a single eyebrow, moving her gaze curiously to Matthew.

"She said couple a weeks," Matthew pushed the scrambled eggs around on his plate. He cleared his throat, about to change the subject.

"Oh, Lordie… look out… reckon you two are in for some pryin' now…" Grace gestured subtly to Dorothy's fast approaching form, as the redhead strode directly towards the two Cooper children.

"Well she's wastin' her time," Matthew replied gruffly, as he placed his knife and fork together finitely.

"Thanks, Miss Grace…" Matthew dropped the coins on the edge of the table and reached for his hat, getting very briskly to his feet.

"Where you goin' all of a sudden?" Colleen frowned, pulling her napkin from her lap and tossing it beside her plate.

"Over Robert E's… gotta get him to re-shoe Bear… ain't ya got school?" Matthew squeezed his sister's shoulder softly, as Grace carried on clearing the breakfast dishes from the table.

"Ain't goin'… needa stay 'round the Clinic, case anyone gets hurt…" Colleen clasped her hands miserably against her chest, her shoulders hunching forwards.

"Colleen, you gotta keep up with your studyin'. Ya worked so hard, don't wanna miss out on the chance to apply for colleges…" Matthew placed his hat firmly on his head, looking down with concern at his sister's sour mood.

"Well, maybe I ain't interested in that anymore…" Colleen's voice was low and desolate.

"What are you talkin' about… been wantin' to go to medical school for years now…" Matthew noticed Dorothy arriving into the small space of the café, aware that a public spectacle was the last thing they needed.

"That was before… thought savin' lives and helpin' people meant somethin' to Dr. Mike. Thought she took her oath seriously… now seems it was all for nothin'…" Colleen fidgeted roughly with the checkered napkin which rested on the table in front of her.

"Look… ain't talkin' 'bout this with ya now… just… do what ya like… mope around the Clinic all day if that's what ya want… you ain't the only one who's strugglin' with this…" Matthew pulled his hand away from her shoulder, shook his head several times, and sauntered across the café to Robert E's.

"Ah… mornin' Colleen… mind if I sit for a moment?" Dorothy barely waited for a response before pulling out the chair to Colleen's right, taking a seat and trying to make eye contact with the young girl.

"Everythin' all right, Colleen?" Dorothy smiled in gratitude as Grace silently filled the metal cup in front of her with fresh coffee.

"I dunno, Miss Dorothy… does it look like it is?" Colleen heard the sarcasm in her whispered voice, barely caring by that stage.

"I… well… no. It doesn't… it's perfectly understandable you're missin' Michaela… but surely she won't be away long… and you have to agree she certainly needs some time for herself." Dorothy was momentarily taken aback by the girl's curt reply, however this did not deter her from trying to offer some advice; whether desired or not. What she was not prepared for was the reddening of Colleen's face, and the shrillness in her voice as she responded abruptly.

"I'm so sick… of… of everyone defending her… poor Dr. Mike, poor Dr. Mike… that's all any a ya been sayin' for months now! There are other people besides her… what about Brian… what about Sully… why's everyone sayin' it's all right for Dr. Mike to do whatever she wants… what about other people…" Colleen rose quickly to her feet, and rested her fists on the edge of the table in front of her. Her voice was thick with emotion. Dorothy's mouth dropped open in shock, before she was finally able to speak.

"Sweetheart, your Ma's been through… something… unimaginable… I would have thought… you'd be old enough to appreciate that… I'm sure Sully can…" She studied the young girl's furious expression, with the assumption Colleen would see sense and calm down.

"Well Sully don't know the half a it," Her reply was only darker and heavier.

"You mean he doesn't know Michaela's gone? Why... why not?" Dorothy interlocked her hands on the table in front of her, leaning forward in unhidden curiosity.

"Doesn't matter… too late now, anyway… Miss Olive reckon's just gotta let Dr. Mike handle stuff for herself… that it's up to her… doesn't matter what I think…" Colleen shook her head slowly, as if trying to somehow convince herself of the advice she had received from the adults around her.

Dorothy nodded slowly, as she leant forward in silent intrigue. She'd heard her sister-in-law's name, and she did not like it one bit. Someone knew something she didn't.

**X.O.X**

"Got a few things to finish first, Matthew, take care a Bear later this afternoon." Robert E. reached forwards for the ball plane hammer, and continued with his laborious work.

"Thanks, Robert E… ain't gonna need it for awhile… just… well… needed doin'…" Matthew had removed his hat from his head, and began to mindlessly turn it around in his hands.

Robert E. worked on the hot iron shoe in front of him for several moments, not sure whether to voice his thoughts. Taking a glance back up, he noticed the young man's lowered head.

"Weren't gonna say nothin', figured everyone's been harpin' on about it enough… but… seemed kinda strange Dr. Mike up and leavin' like that… you know she was takin' little Brian?" Robert E. let the hammer slip from his right hand, and placed it gently beside the anvil.

"No… ah… didn't…" Matthew was hesitant to discuss the issue, however trusted that Robert E. would not pry unnecessarily.

"Seems little odd, pulling the boy outa school like that…" Robert E. wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and folded his arms across his chest.

"He's been pretty… clingy to her lately… well… ever since…" Matthew leaned back up against the fence behind him, "reckon she figured he'd be too hurt if she didn't take him… either that or she thought he was gonna say somethin'…" Matthew deflected his eyes quickly.

"Ain't none a my business anyway… but…" Robert E. looked back across at Matthew sharply in response to the young man's emotive remark.

"'Bout bloody time…" Matthew snarled under his breath, seeing Sully and Wolf pacing along the street in the distance.

"Matthew?" Robert E. frowned; he'd never heard him speak in such a nasty tone.

"Sorry… nothin'… just, well… nothin'…" Matthew placed his hat carefully on his head, in an attempt to conceal his identity.

"Come to think a it… haven't seen Sully 'round town for almost a week now…" Robert E., unaware of the preexisting tension, smiled warmly and waved in Sully's direction, gaining his attention immediately.

"Mornin'… Robert E… Matthew…" Sully nodded as he arrived by Matthew's side, getting no response from the younger man.

"Mornin'… was just sayin' to Matthew, ain't seen you 'round lately…" Robert E. located his canteen and took a long, satisfying drink.

"Ain't been in town… been out with Cloud Dancin'… doin' a vision quest," Sully replied flatly, more concerned by Matthew's complete disregard.

"I see…" Robert E. looked awkwardly between Matthew and Sully, he too was aware of the young man's hostile attitude.

"Everythin' been all right, Matthew? You seem awful quiet…" Sully pushed a handful of hair over his left shoulder, as he turned to his right.

"I'm outa here… got stuff to do…" Matthew threw a look of contempt in Sully's direction as he pushed away from the fence and began walking back towards the street.

"Yeah… I better head off too… see if Dr. Mike wants some mornin' tea…" Sully looked back to Robert E., as Matthew paced off hurriedly into the distance.

"Sully… she… don't ya know?" Robert E. suddenly began to put Matthew's earlier behavior together with Sully's words; realization dawned on him.

"Know what?" Sully shrugged, calling the Wolf to his side.

"Thought ya woulda known… Dr. Mike ain't here… she… went to Denver on Monday's stage… took little Brian…" Robert E. saw Sully's eyes flicker with uncertainty; worry creeping instantly to his face.

"She say why?" Sully alternated his glance between the Blacksmith and Matthew's fading outline.

"No… she didn't say nothin'… no-one knew 'bout it… the kids are takin' it hard though…" Robert E. trailed off, Sully had long-since turned his attention back to Matthew.

"I… gotta…" Sully raised his arm apologetically towards Robert E., the Blacksmith nodded in understanding. He watched with concern as Sully tore away from the fence and ran frantically after Matthew.

"Why didn't ya tell me?" Sully locked his hand firmly around Matthew's arm, the forcefulness in his voice startled the young man somewhat.

"Get off me… don't gotta answer to you…" Matthew shoved Sully's hand away roughly, and continued down towards the mercantile.

"Robert E. said she took Brian… I don't understand… did you know about this?" Sully looked deeply into Matthew's eyes as he searched desperately for any information.

"Course ya don't understand… weren't around, were ya… as usual… and no, we didn't know either… so ya can rest assured Colleen and I weren't keepin' nothin' from ya… well… least I weren't…" Matthew glanced around the busy street, before he turned back reluctantly to Sully.

"Look… it don't make no sense Michaela leavin' like this… just not like her…" Sully drew a breath, having decided to be straight with Matthew. "You know ya Ma and I… well… you know she told me ta leave night a the play… I'm worried… she's been actin' strange for weeks… and now she goes off like this… with no explanation? I… I know you and I had our differences…" Sully stopped when he heard the young man clear his throat.

"Save it, will ya? Don't try makin' it up to me… too late for that. In fact, reckon it's too late for you to do anything. So why don't ya just… crawl back out there, with ya injun friends… stop interferin'…" Matthew felt his hands move to the rawhide pouch around his neck, and in a single instant, pulled it over his head and tossed it to the ground between them.

"You gettin' all of us involved with those savages has caused enough damage…" Matthew dropped his eyes to the object as it hit the dusty road.

"Matthew…" Sully narrowed his eyes and bent down slowly to carefully retrieve Matthew's sacred pouch from the ground.

"Wish we'd never got involved with you… then none a this woulda happened… Dr. Mike wouldn't be out there… God knows where, tryin'…" Matthew stopped, mid-sentence, and shook his head; he wasn't about to give in that easily.

"Listen… I know you're angry with me… we've been over this… and I can handle ya all blamin' me, even ya Ma… but ain't gonna do any good… Now, when Dr. Mike say she'd be back? Why'd she go anyway?" Sully glanced around at the several townspeople who were subtly observing their conversation.

"Dunno when she's gonna get back… few weeks maybe… and as for your not knowing why she's gone… maybe there's a very good reason why you don't know." Matthew pushed his right hand deep into his trouser pocket, as the corner of his mouth pulled up into a contemptuous smirk.

"Just what's that supposed to mean?" Sully scoffed; he could hear the young man's arrogance, matched with his dismissive body language.

"Maybe you and Dr. Mike ain't as close as you thought." Matthew raised a single eyebrow, as a small mocking chuckle left his throat.

"Listen… ya don't know what you're talkin' about…" Sully felt the young man's scorn begin to bite at his pride; he also believed Matthew was old enough to keep his emotions under control.

"Reckon I know a damn sight more than you…" Matthew tightened his eyes into a seething squint, as he looked away to glance towards Loren and Jake on the edge of the porch.

"Why don't you just grow up for a change… stop blaming me for something I really had no control over… and just… move on…" Sully had also noticed the attention they had received, however was too appalled by Matthew's coldness to care.

"Think I've done plenty a growin' up… had to really… you not around… running off to sulk the second things don't go your way." Matthew barely felt his lips move as he muttered a response. The two men locked eyes momentarily, each conveying to the other that they had no intention of coming to an understanding.

"I've had enough of this…" Sully shifted his frustrated glare from Matthew, to Loren and Jake, and then finally back to the ground. Only a moment passed before he turned and took several steps back towards Robert's E's. The sound of Matthew's retort stopped his movements immediately.

"Typical… soon as it gets tough… you're nowhere to be found…" Matthew shook his head in pure loathing. For the first time in his life, he actually didn't care how disrespectful his words were.

"Listen, the only reason I left was… Michaela made it perfectly clear she didn't want me around… and I respected that…" Sully folded his arms defensively across his chest, as his eyes narrowed in unconcealed anger.

"She didn't know what she was sayin'… ain't in any fit state to know what she wants…" Matthew moved his head from side to side in disregard to Sully's previous statement.

"Why ya makin' excuses for her? Dr. Mike's perfectly capable of knowin' her own mind…" Sully dusted his hand down his left arm, the tone of his voice was condescending. Matthew had, on the surface, remained polite the last few months, however Sully knew he would probably never earn back the young man's full respect. Nothing would make up for his refusing to allow Matthew to help him search for Michaela from the first day she was taken. Sully knew it would take years of commitment and loyalty before that damage might be repaired.

"No… she ain't… she…" Matthew took a tentative step towards Sully, his voice dropped, aware of the interested looks from passersby. The two men exchanged regarding looks, for several moments. It wasn't until Matthew trailed off, and dropped his head, that Sully calmed down enough to gently prompt him.

"What?" Sully picked up on the awkwardness in the young man's hesitant words. Sully glanced down at the rawhide pouch clasped loosely in his hands, before he drew his searching gaze back to Matthew's face.

Matthew cleared his throat, both men aware of the agonized silence between them. He didn't want to tell him; it felt as though he was letting him win. Matthew knew that by telling Sully, he'd be loosing a degree of power over his family. He knew he'd be admitting his inability to cope with the situation. Matthew felt as if telling him would take him a step backwards into childhood. He couldn't let that happen.

"Matthew… this isn't about you or me… is it? No matter how angry you are at me… if something's wrong... then…" Sully sighed, mentally willing Matthew to put his immaturity aside.

"Then, what?" Matthew replied automatically, however a small piece of his resistance being broken away. He grasped the belt around his waist, and tried to distract himself away from the reality that Sully's words were slowly breaking down his resolve.

"Then keepin' it from me, ain't the right thing to do… Keepin' it from me, just coz you're mad at me… ain't gonna do no-one no good… Why'd ya Ma leave?" Sully felt a queasiness form in the pit of his stomach. He could sense the nervousness Matthew felt, which only convinced him more strongly that something was very wrong.

"You knowin' ain't gonna change anythin'… ain't gonna get Dr. Mike out of trouble…" Matthew muttered lightly. He lifted his head slightly as he finished, catching Sully's intense glare. Matthew did not consciously mean to give the situation away, but fear had been slowly building in his chest since the day before. His sister's words of concern for Michaela's safety had had an indirect effect on him and despite his contradictory words to Colleen, the young man was petrified. Somewhere deep inside, the thought of having another adult's support was comforting, although his pride would scarcely allow him to admit that, even to himself.

"Trouble…?" Sully felt his chest tighten, he initially feared Michaela ill. It was more the tone that the young man had used which caused Sully to reconsider his meaning. As his mind repeated Matthew's words over and over in his head, another realization struck him. _Trouble… _Sully watched the young man's shoulders sink, as the word again sounded in his mind.

"Sully…" Matthew pulled his mouth into a mortified grimace, his eyes darting around the ground between them. He couldn't say it; not here, not out in the open like this. About to suggest they move to a more discrete location, Matthew heard Sully's weak reply. It was barely audible, the hoarseness of his tone, however, conveyed his understanding.

"No…" Sully felt his feet numb against the ground underneath him. He looked up desperately, hoping Matthew would disconfirm his darkest suspicion.

"She… she ain't _ill_, Sully…" Matthew heard the emotion in his voice before he realized his eyes had been clouded by tears.

"Tell me it's not…" Sully was not even conscious of the sound of his own voice, his thoughts having locked onto one harrowing conclusion.

Matthew didn't bring his eyes back to Sully, however turned, and with his head still lowered, began a slow pace back up the main street.

"Matthew… please… tell me it's not true…" Sully's voice was raw and pleading, he quickly followed the young man, barely able to think logically.

Matthew quickened his pace, glancing up the street ahead of him. They were now only several yards from the porch which led to the Clinic, and Matthew knew the imminent outburst was best kept as private as possible.


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61**

"Brian… slower… you'll make yourself ill…" Michaela cringed, and watched in disbelief as the young boy shoveled the remainder of his final pancake into his mouth.

"thorry, Ma… just dis weally 'ood," Brian struggled to respond to the reprimand, however only made matters worse.

"Brian Cooper…" Michaela dropped her fork to the fine china plate in front of her, her eyes glared across at him in disapproval.

The small child lowered his head in shame, and silently continued to chew the food in his mouth. Michaela sighed and reached forwards to take a sip of her tea. She started to wonder if bringing Brian along had been the wisest of decisions.

"Ma… when's the baby due?" Brian frowned, resting his chin in his left hand.

"Brian…" Michaela's shoulders sunk, as she turned her attention back to her right to gaze out of the glass window. The choice to have brought Brian along was certainly a poor decision.

"Won't be for ages, will it? Will it be before Christmas?" Brian sensed Michaela's distraction, thinking she was still angry at him for his earlier lack of table manners.

"I don't wish to discuss it over breakfast…" Michaela lowered her eyes momentarily, unable to deny herself the truth; that she was indeed carrying a child. That another human being had been created; that it was slowly growing inside of her. And that she would, in a matter of days, be ending that life.

Brian blinked several times, trying to assimilate the sharpness in Michaela's words, with the misery he now saw in her eyes. He couldn't understand it, Miss Myra was excited, why wasn't his mother.

"It's all right, Ma… Doesn't matter if it's not a boy…" Brian turned the corner of his mouth up into a teasing smile, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Brian! Hush… just… please…" Michaela brought the palm of her left hand down forcefully on the edge of the table, as she tore her gaze from the moving countryside which surrounded them.

Brian tensed his shoulders in response to the noise, and pulled his chin down to his chest. His eyes locked on his mother's right hand, the palm of which remained flat against the perfectly white linen.

Michaela cringed, and diverted her attention back towards the window, unable to voice the insincere apology she knew Brian would be expecting.

The young boy watched nervously as Michael's right hand slipped from the table after several moments. Still he waited, eyes shifting between his mother's turned face, and the empty plate before him.

"Can I…" He stopped sharply, and instantly corrected himself, "may I have another pancake, Ma…?" Brian looked eagerly across the room towards the buffet of food.

"Sorry…?" Michaela muttered unconsciously, as she removed the napkin from her lap and placed it delicately beside the china plate.

"May I have another one…?" Brian repeated, already halfway to his feet, as he saw another young girl approach the freshly cooked pancakes.

"No… you've had sufficient… we're heading back to our seats…" Michaela frowned briefly, ignoring the disheartened expression that swept across Brian's face.

"Aww, Ma…" Brian whined, placing his plate back onto the edge of the table reluctantly.

"I told you, no, Brian. Now let's go." Michaela reached awkwardly for her medical bag which rested on the ground by her chair. With a disgruntled sigh, she stood and proceeded along the car to the door which separated the carriages. Brian followed, failing to hide his superficial annoyance at his mother's denial.

**X.O.X**

Colleen looked up from her seat behind Michaela's desk the moment she heard the door open.

"Matthew… what's…" The young girl trailed off, and her jaw dropped as she saw Sully enter the room behind her brother.

"Tell him…" Matthew waved his right hand dismissively from his sister and back towards Sully, in indication for Colleen to say what he could not.

"Sully… where have you…?" Colleen lowered her eyebrows, somewhat startled, as she had not seen Sully for almost a week, and knew he would be shocked by Michaela's unexpected departure.

Sully deflected Colleen's question with a quick shake of his head, as he arrived by the edge of the desk, both hands leaning assertively on the front of it, as he addressed Colleen.

"Matthew said… is it true… he said Michaela… tell me, Colleen… just… _tell me_…" Sully's voice was breathy, his words divided and broken up in panic and concern.

"It's true… she's… havin' a baby… well… was…" Colleen pursed her lips precisely, as her hands interlocked upon the desk in front of her.

"What do you mean, _was_?" Sully didn't blink; his words were placed more slowly than usual.

"That's why she left…" Colleen sighed and continued. "From what we can gather, she hasn't gone to Denver like everyone thinks. Miss Olive and I reckon she's gone to Boston… to get an abortion…" Colleen looked from her brother's resigned face, back to Sully's, as his face slowly melted into forlorn disappointment.

"I knew it. Knew somethin' weren't right. Why didn't someone tell me?" He adjusted his stance nervously, and his widened eyes glared between the two siblings.

"Weren't around, were ya…" Matthew raised a single eyebrow, his arms crossing defensively against his chest.

"Well I… didn't know it was somethin' like this, did I? How could I? Had I known, woulda never left… guess it makes sense now, no wonder Michaela refused to talk to me… no wonder she… Why didn't I see this… why didn't I… do something…" Sully pulled his eyes from Colleen's, to look down at his fingers gripped against the edge of the table.

"It's all about you, ain't it… Just like before. Why don't you just listen to yaself for a minute. Stop tryin' to rescue Dr. Mike all the time; she doesn't need you. Think that's perfectly clear by now. We don't need you at all," Matthew heard his sister's stifled gasp in response to the directness of his words. He didn't care. There wasn't anything that anyone could say to fix this.

"No. I… I can make this right… I… Colleen… you don't believe Michaela's doing the right thing, do you? She's just scared… only doin' this coz she thinks it's what everyone expects her to do…" Despite having heard Matthew's harsh words, Sully couldn't react. He was too consumed by the revelation that had just befallen him.

"I… ain't so sure about that… but, you're right, I don't agree… however I think it's what Dr. Mike wants," Colleen replied, as her shoulders sunk forward in hopelessness.

"Don't ya see… She doesn't, I mean, she might think she does, but… no, there's no way ya Ma'd really want to do that… ain't right… ain't what she believes in…" Sully tilted his head to the side slightly, unintentionally catching Matthew's eye.

"What makes you think you know anything about what Dr. Mike wants, or thinks. Ain't the same to you… some of us… let's face it… most a the people 'round here don't see Indians in the same light as regular folk… don't even treat them like they're human… and I know for a fact, where Dr. Mike comes from… it's even worse. You really got no idea how terrified she is of this. Feels like she's betrayin' her family… herself… all of us," Matthew felt the pace of his words slow. Throughout the short outburst, he'd alternated his glance between Sully and his sister, Colleen's facial expression melting into soft encouragement.

As the young girl took in her older brother's words, she frowned slightly, beginning, for the first time, to consider this situation from a contrasting perspective. That this child's origin was not to be regarded as an insignificant factor. Colleen remembered briefly, the words of contempt and ostracism they'd received during the few days they'd taken care of the cowboy's baby; she knew the town would not be as accepting as were the two people standing before her.

"Ya Ma'd know better than that… would know this ain't something that coulda been helped. That it's not her fault… You know that, don't ya… that this baby isn't responsible for what happened… that it's just the way things are meant to be…" Sully turned sharply, hearing Matthew's furious exclamation from behind him.

"Hell, I can't believe I'm standing here listening to this… '_the way things are meant to be',_" The young man crossed the room noisily, reaching for the door handle, turning momentarily to lock eyes with the older man, "You care more about some half-breed Indian bastard than you do about… _our _mother…" He felt the cool, round handle turn, and pulled the door open towards him, hanging his head as he waited for the inevitable reply.

"That ain't true, Matthew… just… hating that child isn't the answer. Michaela killing her own baby won't help her to forget what happened. Will just make it worse; she'll have to carry that guilt for the rest of her life; she'll regret it every day…" Sully dropped his head, and turned back to Colleen, seeing the paralleled views behind the young girl's eyes. Matthew closed the door gently once again, deciding to stay for a few more minutes.

"That's what I think, Matthew, and I don't want nothin' happening to her. You know it's dangerous. Maybe… maybe we oughta try and stop her," Colleen brought her right hand across her chest and rubbed her hand along her left upper arm slowly in thought.

"No. It's up to Dr. Mike. This isn't our business," Matthew remained firm, however he noticed Sully's jaw tighten in response to Colleen's words.

"Colleen… what did ya mean? Is Michaela in danger?" Sully moved around the desk to crouch down beside the girl.

"Think so…" Her chin lowered to her chest, as she slowly pulled the desk drawer open in front of her and delicately retrieved the crisply folded letter.

"What's this?" Sully tentatively unfolded the thin paper; he squinted to make out the scrawled writing.

"From a doctor… in Boston… Ma wrote him askin' for help… 'cept he weren't any help. Reckon she thought she could do it herself… then… realized it was getting too late, and panicked…" Colleen trailed off as Sully became consumed in the grim content of the writing before him.

"But… something like this… against the law, ain't it? I mean, ain't something you can just do. Would have to be careful to not get caught, and that'd make it more dangerous wouldn't it?" Sully felt his shoulders rise and fall heavily, quickly turning around to see Matthew's anger fade into worry, before he looked back to Colleen for a response.

"Yeah… I… I don't know much… but it's gotta involve… surgery. And if this doctor reckons it'll leave permanent damage… or even kill her… then there'd be the chance of massive blood loss. Surely it'd be safer to just have the baby?" Colleen cringed noticeably as Sully dropped the letter to the desk.

"Then I ain't lettin' her do this…" Sully stood, reaching a hand to Colleen's shoulder in support.

"Here we go," Matthew rolled his eyes, once again opening the door to signal his intention to leave the room.

"Don't you understand, Matthew? Even ya own sister is sayin' this is dangerous. If you want to stand by… and have ya little brother end up livin' halfway across the country with your Grandma, because Michaela's been thrown in jail, or… died… then… then you're not the man I thought you were," Sully paused, expecting Matthew to have departed from him moments earlier. He was somewhat taken aback by the young man's continued presence. "Look, I'm sorry you feel this anger towards me… but don't let it stop ya from admitting what you know is the right thing. I'm not going to let her kill herself over this. And from the sounds of it, she'd go just that far. I'll leave on tomorrow morning's stage. I'll find her… somehow… and I'll bring her home. Now, if you two want to come with me… then that's up to you… reckon she needs all of us right now. Either way, I'm goin'…" Sully moved his eyes slowly over the assorted items on Michaela's desk, his gaze resting on the framed photo of her graduating class. He swallowed, eyes glazing over as he considered the emotional torment Michaela must have been enduring these last few months. He wished he'd known. He wished he'd listened… asked… It wasn't until he heard Matthew's footsteps approaching along the wooden floorboards that Sully realized he had not left the room.

"Fine… but I'm goin' too, then. Maybe we can get there in time to stop this…" Matthew added, as they both turned back around, having heard the chair scrape across the floorboards.

"Me too…" Colleen rose to her feet, and nodded slowly in contribution.

"Good. I need to go… get some stuff organized… meet you both back here tomorrow mornin'…" Sully kept his voice low and serious.

"Right… gonna go ride out to Miss Olive's… let her know what's goin' on… everyone's gonna think it odd the lot a us traipsing off… gonna need someone to keep the rumors under control…" Matthew saw the confused look Sully directed his way, Colleen quickly interjecting with an explanation.

"She… well… guessed. Couldn't really lie to her… 'sides… she thinks Dr. Mike's doin' the right thing; doesn't bother her a bit," Colleen shrugged.

"Don't matter what anyone thinks, Colleen… we'll worry about that after we've found ya Ma and Brian…" Sully looked between both Matthew and Colleen, to see if either had anything further to say.

"Sully's right. What matters is keeping our family together. Will get Robert E. to look after the animals… Colleen… we'll head back to the homestead tonight… pack… you all right stayin' here 'til supper?" Matthew ran his right hand along the edge of the doorframe, barely believing that he was agreeing with Sully after their earlier confrontation.

"Yeah… I'll make up some supplies for Mr. Slicker… what we gonna say though? I mean… tomorrow, everyone's gonna see us leavin'… gonna think it's strange us going after Dr. Mike for no reason." Colleen pushed a strand of loose blond hair behind her right ear, looking nervously between her brother and Sully.

"We… can just say got a telegram… that Dr. Mike wanted to stay on… that we thought it'd be nice if we joined her… Surely no-one'll question that…" Matthew raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"S'ppose that'll work… couldn't really care less to be honest… ain't what's important." Sully arrived by Matthew's side, opening the door and taking several moments to glance out onto the busy main street, before his attention was gripped by Matthew's dull reply.

"I'll… ah… be back after lunch, Colleen…" Matthew drew his lips together in a tight grimace, stepped past Sully out onto the porch, and secured his hat firmly on his head.

"All right…" Colleen whispered, returning the crisply folded letter to the drawer, and sliding the chair back neatly under the desk.

Sully nodded in Colleen's direction; his eyes communicated a warm confidence of reassurance.

"Everythin's gonna work out, Colleen," He muttered under his breath, before joining Matthew on the porch and letting the door close behind him.

**X.O.X**

**Friday, 8****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela felt her head sink back deeper against the soft pillows, as her eyes opened slowly and adjusted to the sunlit room. Looking around at the vague familiarity of the empty room, Michaela saw a large window to her left, the fine lace curtains of which flowed gently in the wind. To her right was a door, the only distraction from the bland walls and floor. She was lying on her back, and could feel the blankets pulled tightly across her body. It wasn't until she moved her head slightly, in an attempt to push herself into a sitting position that she realized it wasn't the weight of the bed linen she could feel.

A horrified strangled cry sounded from deep within her throat, Michaela confirming her fears, when she locked eyes on her large stomach. Her breath was held in her chest, her hands clutched the floral colored patchwork quilt either side of her body.

Her breathing increased sharply, as she felt the intense pain grip her, catching her off guard and throwing her into a terrified panic.

"No… what… what's happening… where…" Michaela unconsciously brought her hands to her stomach, looking around the room once again, desperate for an explanation.

"Please… _ah_… this isn't meant…" Michaela gasped an awkward breath of air into her lungs, trying to determine where she was and what exactly was going on. She let the air leave her chest again in a muffled groan, her hands clenching closed as she heard the wooden door open across the room.

"Sorry 'bout that Doc… just had to get a few things… everythin' all right here?" The older, dark haired woman bustled into the room excitedly. Carefully setting the pitcher of hot water down on a small brown table near the foot of the bed, she turned back to Michaela, a consoling smile of understanding appearing on the midwife's face

"Charlotte? I don't understand… why are you… _ohh…"_ Michaela's attention was pulled back to what she could only discern as a vice-like pain which ripped through her lower body.

"Ssh… everything's all right… you just try and relax there… ain't gonna be too much longer now…" Charlotte sat carefully on the edge of the bed, reaching forwards to place a wet towel across Michaela's forehead.

"I… don't understand… this isn't meant to be happening… you're not meant to be here…" Michaela looked around the room quickly once again, her mouth dropping open in confusion.

"Hardly gonna let ya go through this alone, now, am I?" The midwife stroked her friend's arm softly with her left hand, her right resting tenderly on Michaela's stomach.

"But… I'm not going through this… I'm not having this baby… am I?" Michaela's eyes glistened over slightly, her fear being exacerbated by the realism of both Charlotte's actions and words.

"Well, I sure ain't about to trade places with ya… had my three. Now don't you worry, know it seems frightenin', but everything's goin' along nicely. Had any more pains since I been gone?" Charlotte moved her hand gently across Michaela's stomach, before looking back up at her for a response.

"Before… and then when you just came in…" Michaela found herself slowly being pulled into the reality of the situation. Maybe this really was happening. The pain she had felt had been as real as she could have possibly imagined. No… How could this be happening? Charlotte was dead… and she was _not_ having this baby.

"Contractions gettin' closer then… Doctor's just comin'… then… be holdin' that little one in a few hours…" Charlotte adjusted the cloth across Michaela's forehead, wiping the perspiration from her cheeks.

"You're dead, Charlotte… how can you be here?" Michaela felt her shoulders tense, sensing that the blinding pain was about to return once again.

"Now, ain't that a lovely thing to say…" Charlotte raised an eyebrow, her voice lowering in comical sarcasm. "know ya in a heck of a lot a pain, but still don't warrant talkin' to me…" Charlotte shook her head, watching as Michaela endured yet another contraction.

"There ya go… all over. Breathe… that's it…" Charlotte soothed, placing her left hand against the back of Michaela's right shoulder, helping her to rest back against the pillows.

"Please… I don't want you here. I don't want anyone here… please… leave me…" Michaela felt her face break out into a cold sweat. If this was really happening, she didn't want any witnesses. As much as she tried to reassure herself that this wasn't possible, the excruciating, petrifying racks of pain, told her otherwise. And if she was still carrying this child… then the utter repulsion that she felt towards the life inside of her still existed. A repulsion she knew would be shared by all around her… if they knew…

_She doesn't know, Michaela… Charlotte will expect this child to be normal… You can't let her stay… you can't let her find out… this is your shame, Michaela…_

"No… please… go away… please… please…" Michaela gritted her teeth, glancing to her right, as the woman's hand left her shoulder.

"Now, don't be silly… I ain't goin' nowhere…" Charlotte turned the corner of her mouth up into a dismissive smile.

Michaela saw the look of determination in the older woman's eyes. About to take a breath and oppose Charlotte's intentions, Michaela's attention was drawn to the sound of the door handle turning. She heard the deliberate footsteps as they strode into the room. Looking back across at Charlotte for an explanation, Michaela heard the familiar voice utter a low, concerned murmur.

"I trust everything is as it should be…" The gray-haired man appeared completely in the room, turning to close the door behind him, the lock clicking loudly, as Charlotte met eyes with the Doctor, a short chuckle being emitted from her throat.

"She's doin' fine… contractions about two minutes apart… think it's takin' its toll, though…" Charlotte smiled up at the experienced physician, the movement of the woman beside her causing her to reach for Michaela's lower arm.

"Oh my God, no…" Michaela recognized her father in a heartbeat, and pulled her weight awkwardly across in the bed.

_No… how is this happening… Charlotte, Father… no… I can't be here like this… I can't let them see me like this…_

Charlotte rose from the side of the bed, stepping back to allow the Doctor access to his patient.

"Well then, hopefully it won't be too much longer… everything all right, Michaela?" Josef placed his medical bag on the edge of the bed by Michaela's right hand, which lay tightly clenched.

She merely shook her head violently in response, her eyes darting between the two people before her, searching desperately for an escape.

"Father, no… I'm scared… please don't make me do this… I can't do this…" Michaela moved both her hands protectively to the thick blankets which were tucked firmly across her lower body.

"Calm down… it is perfectly natural for you to feel such apprehension… especially the first time. Let me examine you… then we will have more of an idea how much longer you've to continue…" Josef perched softly on the edge of the mattress, his right hand locking over Michaela's as he began prizing the white linen from her fingers.

"No… you don't understand… please, both of you leave me… I don't need anyone's help…" Michaela severed the physical contact by recoiling her right arm, and increasing her hold on the bedding.

"Michaela… you're a doctor yourself… You know I need to check as to the progression of the labor… It's foolish to…" Josef was startled by the emotional outburst which followed.

"No! I don't want you touching me… I don't want anyone touching me… If I have to do this… I'll do it alone… Get out!" Michaela felt her arms cross her chest to grip desperately to her upper arms, the terrified tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Michaela Quinn! I will not have you talking to me like that, under any circumstance! You'll do as you're instructed." Josef succeeded in peeling the heavy blankets from her torso, Charlotte coming to his side to restrain a now hysterical Michaela.

"Please! Please, no… don't touch me! Please… you'll hate me… you'll hate me…" Michaela felt Charlotte's hands lock around her wrists, making any attempt to avoid the physical invasion impossible.

"Hush… all be over soon…" Charlotte maintained the grasp of her fingers around Michaela's wrists, the younger woman letting out a final plea of protest as she felt her father's hands move against her stomach.

"_No… no…"_ Michaela felt her back slide against the pillows in a futile effort to free herself from the overpowering contact of both Charlotte and her father. It was pointless; the tips of his fingers pressed firmly against her hard abdomen, as the room began to brighten. It was difficult to see the two figures standing over her, however Michaela could still hear the sound of her own petrified voice.

"Please… stop… stop… no…" The room was nothing more than a bright light, but still she could feel his fingers against her stomach.

Michaela felt her arms able to move again, and the brightness slowly melded into distinguishable objects. A window… moving trees. She surfaced in confusion from the nightmare, and shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight which entered the compartment.

It was then that she felt the continual presence of something against her lower abdomen. Opening her eyes completely, Michaela saw the crop of blond hair beside her, as she lowered her glance in an attempt to locate the source of the physical sensation.

"Mornin' Ma… ya gotta listen to this…" Brian looked up eagerly towards her, adjusting the stethoscope in his right ear as he again moved the bell along his mother's stomach.

Michaela squinted against the golden stream of sunlight which filled the compartment, before being able to relate Brian's actions with the movements along her stomach.

"Brian… what…?" Michaela gradually identified the stethoscope pressed into his ears, before looking sharply downwards, and, in an instant, connecting all the sensory information together.

"It's really great Ma… just like you showed me when Susanna's Ma had her baby last year… can hear the heartbeat… wanna listen…?" Brian turned his head up with a large grin, pulling the stethoscope from his ears and offering it to her.

Michaela had managed to remove the bell of the stethoscope from her stomach, feeling her chest tighten as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

"No… Brian… and don't you dare do that again…" Michaela pushed the child's hands away, the young boy lowering his head in misunderstanding.

"But ya gotta… thought ya'd wanna hear it… come on, Ma… please?" Brian proffered the stethoscope towards his mother once again, his voice rising in pitch slightly with enthusiasm.

"I said _no_, Brian! Leave me alone!" Michaela rose quickly from the bench, oblivious to the shocked look of the older couple sitting opposite her.

"I… I don't… what did I…?" Brian looked at the stethoscope laying on the floor in front of him, having dropped from his grasp in response to his mother's furious reaction.

"I…" Michaela felt her jaw tighten and her face redden. She glanced between the small boy, and then the older couple. Taking a step towards the doorway, she gripped the edge of her skirt tightly, "… excuse me…" Michaela turned and fled quickly into the corridor, her breathing short and shallow. Continuing down the hallway for several moments, she replayed Brian's words over in her head several times.

_Why had he done that… had he really heard a heartbeat? Why did he have to tell me…_

"I don't want to know… I can't consider…" Michaela heard her whispered voice, as she stopped moving. Being the early hours of the morning, her surroundings were quiet. Allowing herself to lean up against the wall of the corridor, Michaela felt her eyes drop closed for several seconds, until she was quickly brought to her senses by a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Everythin' all right, Michaela?" Meg's soothing, rich voice filled the air, Michaela tensing automatically against the contact, before opening her eyes and taking a breath to reply.

"No… I… I'm sorry…" She felt the tears trickle down her cheeks. Lowering her eyes towards the ground, she was reminded of the content of her recent nightmare. Momentarily relieved that her stomach had returned to a far less obvious state, Michaela felt the emotional terror rebuild regardless.

"Wanna talk, then…?" Meg smiled, clutching the wrists of the toddler who stood beside her. "We got an empty compartment… come on… seein' as ya so upset…" Meg gestured to the compartment behind her, Michaela too weak to resist.

"Thank-you," she whispered tiredly, being ushered into the small space. The younger woman slid the glass door closed and placed the child on the floor amidst a collection of toys.


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62**

"I know how ya must be feelin'… downright cramped and uncomfortable after two days a this…" Meg seated herself awkwardly on the padded bench across from Michaela, her right hand resting automatically on her swollen belly.

"It's not that… I mean… that certainly doesn't help… but… well, I… I'm not enjoying this…" Michaela let her shoulders rest back against the cushioned backing, feeling the discomfort return to her lower back.

"I understand… especially seein' as you're traveling all this way by yaself… 'least I ain't all on me own…" Meg smiled down at the young child playing contently with a wooden train on the floor beside her.

"I thought…?" Michaela frowned momentarily, not sure as to whether or not Margaret had alluded to her husband's presence the night of their first conversation.

"No… David's just been with several of his work colleagues for the mornin'… been lookin' after this one in the afternoons, at least gives me a break… What about you? Your husband not have a problem… sending you all this way to see a doctor… and then expectin' ya to travel all on ya own?" Meg baulked slightly, tilting her head to give Michaela a confused, yet worried glance.

"No… I… well… I'm not…" Michaela dropped her head, not caring by this stage. It's not like she'd ever have to see this woman again. They'd be arriving in a few short hours, so it didn't matter what she said.

"Oh… I… I'm sorry… I… just assumed…" Meg blushed, looking away with momentary embarrassment. As rude as it was to take her friend's marital status for granted, she could not deny the sweeping intrigue that grew following Michaela's disclosure.

"I'm… used to it… you weren't to know…" Michaela tightened her jaw closed firmly, feeling uneasiness wash over her.

A long, awkward pause ensured, Meg looking from the entertained child back to Michaela, the older woman keeping her head lowered, her eyes mesmerized by the sight of her fingers locked together in her lap.

"Look… feel free to tell me ain't none of my business… but… ya seemed awful upset before… even now… you seem… uncomfortable… is there…" Meg trailed off, the small sob passing from Michaela's lips enough to answer her question.

"I… I'm sorry…" Meg rose from the bench opposite swiftly, and took a seat on Michaela's left. She passed her a fresh handkerchief, not expecting the older woman to turn abruptly, and collapse her weight on her shoulder. "Here… sorry I was pryin'… ain't none of my business…" Meg rested a hand nervously on Michaela's left arm, and adjusted her seating on the narrow bench.

"No… you weren't to know… I'm sorry… I just feel so… alone… and… I don't even know you… but… you're the first person I can talk to, Meg… Maybe it's because I _don't_ know you…" Michaela felt the warmth of the younger woman's woolen shawl under her chin. She knew such an emotional display was improper; she didn't care…

"Well… how about startin' with why you've felt like there's no-one you've been able to talk with… Don't you have friends… family?" Meg moved her right arm to Michaela's back, her voice tentative and non-threatening.

"Yes… but…" Michaela heard her voice fade, images of her sisters, the townsfolk and the children coming to mind. "But… it's… not really something I can expect anyone to understand…" Michaela felt Meg's soft hand against her back, and was in that instant, tempted to believe that the woman's comfort alone could free her from the nightmare she was facing. The two remained locked together, sharing a comfortable, understanding silence for several moments.

Michaela pulled her head away the instant she heard the door move behind her.

"Ma… ya all right? Ya still mad at me?" Brian clutched to the side of the wooden door, his gaze alternating from his mother to the stranger beside her.

"Sweetheart… just go back to your seat and sit quietly…" Michaela felt her cheeks tingle as the tears that had formed ran along her warm skin.

"Hey little guy… what's his name? How old is he ma'am?" Brian pulled his eyes away from his mother to observe the toddler playing on the floor several feet away.

"He… ah… this is Christian… he's just turned two…" Meg attempted to answer the small blond-haired boy's question, although unable to conceal her curiosity as to his identity.

"Can I play with him?" Brian was easily distracted from his mother's obviously distressed state by the exulted chuckle that the toddler gave out in response to the attention.

"Well… maybe later… we're just…" Meg looked up to see Michaela's lifeless expression, before bending down and helping the two-year old to his feet. "Here… how about you take Christian back to your seat… he just loves trains…" Meg watched as the little boy stepped further into the room, taking the younger child's hand with an excited grin.

"Sure, ma'am… I love 'em too… that all right, Ma?" Brian loosened his grip on the toddler's hand, afraid his mother would disapprove.

"That's fine, Brian…" Michaela dismissed, her shoulders dropped in a drawn-out sigh as the two children left the compartment.

Meg waited until Brian had slid the door closed, before turning her attention back to Michaela and picking up where she'd left off. "Didn't think you had any children, yet?" Her question was stated softly enough, with only the faintest hint of accusation.

"I… don't… I mean… Brian's mother died two years ago… she entrusted her three children to me… I should have mentioned it… when you asked who I was traveling with… I just thought… I suppose it was easier if you assumed it was with another adult. I'm sorry… the other night… I didn't really feel like talking. It's all so complicated, and… it will sound silly… but… I liked being able to talk with you… without having to explain…" Michaela felt her eyebrows tighten together at the guilt of having neglected to be completely honest.

"No problem… as you said… you don't know me… I don't blame you one bit. The world's so judgmental these days… ain't none of my business anyway… just thought… well… what happened this morning to make you so upset?" Margaret moved the conversation back in the intended direction, seeing Michaela begin to drift off into her own thoughts once again.

"I… I had a very peculiar dream… it was rather frightening… does that… I mean, is that normal?" Michaela unclasped her hands, resting them either side of her body against the floral padding of the bench.

"Oh, was that all was botherin' ya… oh my goodness, yes… why when I was getting near the end with Christian… had the strangest dreams… real realistic too… it's probably just nerves… especially given you're new to all this…" Meg reached spontaneously across to grasp Michaela's wrist with a chuckle, surprised at the unconscious flinch.

"Sorry…" Meg frowned, searching for Michaela's attention in the emptiness behind her glazed-over eyes.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing… I… just wish I knew what was wrong with me…" Michaela shook her head despairingly, as she rubbed the moisture from her cheeks with the back of her left hand.

"Oh, honey… you're havin' a baby… ain't nothin' goin' mess ya around more… much as I love being pregnant… several months I'll be givin' anything just to get my old body back again…" Margaret winced, her left hand massaging her stomach in response to the kick she'd just received, "… right on cue… start to feel as if your body doesn't even belong to you after a few months… like it's not your own… you don't get a say in any of it…" she sighed with a small smile, before leaning back further against the bench, in a desperate attempt to increase her comfort level.

"I haven't felt that my body was my own from the start… maybe that's what's making it worse… I feel as though everything's so out of control… without my permission… and I know why this terrifies me so much… but knowing is little comfort." Michaela moved her hands from her side, bringing them around her body, her intention unclear; Margaret studied the gesture for several moments, unable to determine whether the woman beside her was attempting to further conceal her condition, or display an albeit unattached gesture of affection towards her unborn child.

"Forgive me… but… Michaela… you don't strike me as… did you even want to be pregnant?" Meg chose her words very delicately, her eyes searching Michaela's for an initial emotional response. Within the older woman's large eyes was a dead stillness. Meg was about to change the subject, considering the question perhaps too personal, when the woman opposite her dropped her head, her reply almost inaudible.

"No…" Michaela lowered her head further, her voice hoarse and clouded by the tears that had begun falling from her eyes. "You might say I didn't exactly have a lot of choice in the matter…" Her eyelids twitched as she glanced in fascination down at the small snag on the edge of her satin skirt.

Margaret frowned, and was unable for several moments to discern the older woman's meaning. Alternating her gaze from the woman's hands curled around her torso, to the direction of her glance, Meg felt a harrowing comprehension occur.

"But… surely you knew the chances… you knew the risks.… you… oh, Lord… Michaela… I'm so sorry… I just assumed you were married…" Meg felt the cold wave of shock pass over her face and shoulders, the previous conversation she'd had with Michaela now falling into place.

"Well… I'm not… not that it was ever that much of a priority… but… I took it for granted that it might at least be _my_ decision…" Michaela let her eyes drop closed, seeing Sully's departing form from the night of the play trail off into the darkness in her mind.

"Ain't ya got family, though? I mean… ain't there somewhere you could go 'til this is all over with… ain't there people who can help ya?" Meg tried to think rationally, however finding it difficult to fight the anger building up inside her that a woman she had formed a genuine affection towards should be facing such a crisis.

"Not… really… I haven't been able to tell many people…" Michaela sighed softly, bringing her head up slowly and meeting eyes with the woman sitting opposite her for the first time in minutes.

Meg nodded several times, sensing the older woman's underlying reasons. "You mustn't blame yourself… I don't care what nobody says… somethin' like this can't be your fault…" Meg became lost in her own understanding; truthfully she wasn't sure if she believed her own words, however, had no way of knowin' if a pregnancy under these circumstances could have been avoided.

"Please… I'd prefer if we didn't… I wanted to tell you the truth, and I've done that. I don't know what I expected you to say… but I didn't wish to deceive you any longer…" Michaela turned her gaze back to the window, trying to settle her breathing.

"Of course, I'm sorry… here I am goin' on about my youngin', and how wonderful I've found it… and, I'm sorry… I don't know what to say, I'm just so sorry…" Margaret watched carefully as the woman opposite her lifted her head; her expression cold and isolated.

"Just don't tell me you're sorry one more time… Please, forget I mentioned it… perhaps I shouldn't have burdened you, but I knew my behavior may be rather uncharacteristic…" Michaela kept her expression frozen, her lips barely moving as she uttered the emotionless reply.

"No… thank-you for findin' the courage to tell me the truth… I just wish it hadn't of been two hours before we'll be partin' comp'ny… Look… unless you don't want to, would really like to keep in touch, gotta be due within a month of each other… and… well… if I can be of any help…" Meg slipped her hand into the carpet bag beside her, locating a crumbled letter and tearing her address from the front of the envelope.

"I really don't think…" Michaela felt a tightness return to her chest, about to politely decline the offer of friendship, however, not having the heart when she noticed the warm smile cross the younger woman's lips as she slipped the address into her hand. "All right…" Michaela forced a small smile, turning to gaze at the passing countryside, which was gradually becoming more dense and populated.

"Well… with the move… gonna take me awhile to meet anyone… and… I like you…" Meg paused before stating her final three words, managing to catch Michaela's eye, the physician drawn in by the unhindered honesty in the woman's eyes.

"Thank-you…" Michaela clasped the delicate paper more tightly in her left hand, moving her right to finish dabbing at the dried tears on her cheeks.

"You stay for a few minutes… I'll just go see if your son needs rescuin'…" Margaret rested her right hand on Michaela's arm for several moments, before standing and slipping out into the hallway without another sound.

Michaela turned her attention back to the window, the familiar faces from her earlier disturbed sleep filling her mind. She now felt more confident in her dismissal of the content. Perhaps it was completely normal; regardless of her uniquely traumatic circumstances.

_Soon, Michaela… soon it will all be over… you will have your life back._

Pulling her gaze from the window, Michaela looked down reluctantly to her stomach. She couldn't tell whether it was outwardly obvious or not by this point; somehow knowing the truth made it seem visually unmistakable. Michaela gingerly rested her right hand against her firm abdomen, and took several long, deliberate breaths; knowing exactly what was happening inside of her; and knowing once again that her planned deed was the most repugnant act of violence she could consider, with only one exception…

**X.O.X**

"Told ya… didn't I tell ya… only a matter a time before Dr. Mike was gonna do somethin' like this…" Jake ran the edge of the razor blade carefully along Loren's chin, raising an eyebrow as he glanced around the room.

"She sure has been actin' kinda strange lately… I'll give ya that… I mean… well, she was fine for awhile… weren't she… then…" Horace shook his head, turning a page in the newspaper before him, Hank interrupting with a less than subtle cough.

"I been tryin' to tell ya what it is… Sully's gettin' his mitts back on her… Michaela ain't gonna like that…" Hank flashed a smile of smugness.

"Aww, that ain't true, Hank… Sully's just lookin' out for her… just tryin' to be a friend…" Loren waited until Jake had turned to clean the excess soap from the razor before contributing.

"No way, old man… he's lookin' out for himself… wanted her for himself from the start… probably just ticked off about all this ruinin' his chances." Hank enjoyed the glare of discomfort which crossed Horace's face.

"Ain't right to be talkin' like that, Hank… ain't our business…" He focused his efforts on reading the article in front of him.

"Sure it is… we ain't got no doc now… reckon it makes it plenty our business…" Hank met eyes with Jake, who saw his point.

"When you put it like that… but you heard what Matthew told Robert E. Says Dr. Mike's only going to be gone a few weeks…" Jake returned to his customer, almost causing Loren an injury when the older man moved forwards in his chair to respond.

"And you believe that? Load a rubbish…" Hank scoffed, Loren interjecting quickly.

"Now just quit talkin' like that Hank… she ain't left for good… just for a while like the children said… she'd never separate little Brian from Matthew and Colleen anyway… not to mention the whole town…" Loren slowly settled himself back in the chair, Jake nervously bringing the razor to his neck once again.

"What makes you think Michaela goin' first weren't just to throw everyone off the scent… Matthew and Colleen'll probably follow in a week or so…" Hank rested back against the bench, as Horace twitched his mouth in thought.

"Look… I hate to even think somethin' like this… but… she didn't want no return ticket when she booked the stage… said she'd handle it when she got to Denver…" Horace lowered the paper, suddenly considering Hank's theory a possibility.

"All the evidence I need; she's taken the kid… ain't comin' back…" Hank looked back towards Jake and Loren for an opinion.

"Would make sense, I guess… hardly gonna be any easier to forget livin' this close to… not to mention all us… knowin'…" Loren muttered quietly, reluctant to be siding with the Saloon owner.

"And Sully… He's probably been harpin' on at her to make nice with all his injun pals… who'd wanna do somethin' like that… I'd happily see the lot of 'em dead…" Hank tossed his hair back over his right shoulder, his mouth moving into a tight grimace of determination

"Well I ain't thought of it like that… I mean… seen Dr. Mike and Sully together a lot… least until last week… was startin' to reckon maybe something was goin' on there again… then he just disappeared…" Horace folded the newspaper crisply in his lap; the conversation proving far more enlightening.

Jake let out an exasperated sigh as Loren again moved sharply in his seat before beginning to put in his two cents worth. "Like he always does… Olive told me they had a fight night a the school play… said Michaela told him she didn't wanna see him no more… said that's why he took off…"

"Well… has anyone seen him 'round lately…? Mighty strange him takin' off… then the doc two days later… you don't reckon…" Hank chuckled under his breath, before continuing his supposition, "reckon she took off so he wouldn't know? Like… as if she was just waitin' for the chance? But she was too scared he'd try and stop her?" Hank leant forwards in captivation.

"Now just you stop that… This ain't right… Even if she has gone… much as I know people gonna be upset… I can understand it… I'm just worried 'bout Myra… she was so lookin' forward to havin' Dr. Mike around, with the baby and all…" Horace placed the newspaper next to him on the bench.

"Just don't seem fair, though… wish we coulda done somethin' better… somethin' to stop…" Loren looked up at the sound of footsteps entering through the door. The room filled with an uncomfortable silence, no-one having the strength to voice a response aside from Hank.

"Well, well, well… look who's finally crawled outa that tepee at last…" Hank sneered, Jake's disapproval breaking the tension.

"That ain't funny, Hank…" Jake reprimanded, as he wiped the remainder of the soap from Loren's face.

"Good question though… where have ya been, Sully?" Loren's face was stern and demanding.

"Away… look… I… ah… I ain't interested in having to explain myself to any a ya… just came by… coz I…" Sully sighed awkwardly, not enjoying the attention he was receiving.

"Hey ya heard 'bout Dr. Mike didn't ya?" Horace got to his feet, worried that maybe Sully had been left out of the loop.

"Jake…" Sully deliberately ignored Horace's question, instead turning his attention to the barber across the room. "I… ah… need ya help…" Sully looked around the room uncomfortably, sensing the curiosity his entrance had just provoked.

"You what?" Jake let the razor blade drop into the bowl of alcohol beside him, Hank taking that precise moment to burst into a bemused cackle.

"Reckon… he… wants ya to cut off the mane…" He rested his arms on his knees, barely managing to contain his amusement.

"Knock if off, Hank… Get outa here…" Jake groused, seeing the darkness in Sully's eyes.

"That ain't it, is it?" Horace stood nervously, tilting his head as the room once again went quiet.

"Course it ain't… just wanna talk to Jake… in private…" Sully knew if the men around him were aware of the truth, his eminent departure would only be made more conspicuous.

"Yeah… come on, Hank… got those new cigars in from St. Louis… really need some of your private stock to go with 'em… on the house…" Loren crossed the room to pat Hank's back encouragingly.

"Yeah… what do I care… ain't standing 'round with injun boy here…" The Saloon owner sidled towards the doorway, Loren following close behind him, taking the instant to whisper discreetly in Sully's ear.

"Get her back, won't ya son…" the older man lowered his head, rousing Hank out onto the porch and towards the general store.

"Look, Horace… 'ppreciate it if ya could give us a few minutes…" Sully patted the telegraph operator's arm softly.

"No problem… just… is that it? Are ya gonna get Dr. Mike back?" Horace's eyes grew large in pleading.

"Gonna try, Horace," Sully replied softly, as the tall man nodded a somber acknowledgement and departed from the shop.

"Take a seat…" Jake instructed hesitantly, barely believing the scene that had just unfolded before him.

"Listen… ain't any use pretendin' now… me and the kids… gonna go and find Michaela and Brian… thought it'd be more appropriate if I…" Sully gestured solemnly to his long tangled locks of hair.

"…if you didn't look like one of _them_…?" Jake finished Sully's sentence plainly, before turning and locating his scissors on the tray beside him. Sully let out an audible sigh of agreement, before making himself more comfortable against the red velvet chair. Carefully beginning to untangle the long tresses before him, Jake resumed the conversation. "We were just talkin'… Horace said she didn't get no return ticket. Ain't gonna take long for the town to realize she ain't plannin' on comin' back…" Jake carefully took the first handful of long, curled hair between his fingers, straightening it out and preparing to cut.

"But the children said…" Sully paused, having assumed up until this point that Colleen and Matthew's explanation of Michaela's leaving, and eventual return were accurate. "Who's sayin' she ain't comin' back?" His voice was unusually low and flat.

"No-one really… just talk. Gettin' different stories from everyone. You reckon going after her's the right thing…?" Jake opened the scissors in his right hand, pulling the hair taught in his left.

"Would I be doin' this if I didn't?" Sully let his eyes drop closed as he felt the first cut being made. He'd grown his hair from the moment he'd left the army, and considered it as much a part of his identity as his name, or clothing.

"This because you think this is the best place for her to be… or because you don't wanna lose her?" Jake enquired delicately, his hand moving to the next clump of hair, again repeating the cutting movement.

"Both… but it ain't about me… Look, I know what people are thinkin'… sayin'… you all just think I wanna be with her to show her it don't matter… or for myself… And ain't neither of those reasons true… And if they were true at one time… ain't true now. Don't matter to me if Michaela wants to be with me or not… all that matters is her… and the children." Sully phrased his final word awkwardly, aware, for the first time, of his confused feelings regarding the extra 'addition' to that term. He knew how much hatred he felt towards what had happened… and he knew to whom that hatred was directed. But regardless, he couldn't pass that hatred on to the child Michaela was carrying. It was _her_ child. Sully knew he could make her see that. It would be difficult, but he knew he could achieve that. He just had to keep her safe in the meantime.

"Sully… she ever… talk to you about… bein' out there…?" Jake voiced carefully, pulling Sully from his diverse thoughts.

"A little… not much… I didn't like to push her to talk about it if she didn't want," Sully replied automatically, not having time to consider whether or not he wished to discuss something so personal with Jake. He felt the scissors slice through another handful of his hair, as Jake's lowered voice filled the small shop.

"Doesn't sound like she's really _talked_ to anyone… I mean… Dorothy let it slip that she'd spoken with her the next morning... but she talked about _what_ happened… not… well… I was there, Sully… _what_ happened and _how_ it happened, probably ain't the same thing…" Jake snipped the sharp blades of the scissors against the final lock of Sully's hair, both turning to take in the pile of long hair on the floor beside the chair.

"Ain't somethin' I like talkin' about either, but I was there too, Jake… a week later. Had to… clean up…" Sully deflected his eyes back towards the tips of his toes in front of him, feeling Jake begin moving the small comb through the remnant wisps of his hair. Letting his eyes fall closed as he felt the cool air hit the back of his neck, Sully knew his sacrifice, however heartbreaking, was small in comparison. He knew that getting Michaela to return would be impossible enough, without drawing the offended looks and comments from passersby as he had the last time he'd traveled to Boston. As much as Sully knew of the enormity of his transformation, he knew it would be worth it. His hair would grow back in time… and this small sacrifice was the least he owed her.

"I… know probably isn't my place… but… can't stop thinkin' about it… can't stop… rememberin'… wishin' we'd kept searchin' that night, 'stead a makin' camp… for heaven's sake, was less than an hour after we set off that mornin' that we found her… if we'd started earlier… or… kept goin'… maybe… maybe wouldn't have happened at all… maybe…" Jake looked between the comb and scissors held loosely in each of his hands, Sully turning in the chair to watch him for several moments before responding.

"Don't gotta put yaself through this, Jake… Ya think I ain't had all those thoughts?" Sully drew a breath, about to continue when the barber interjected more strongly.

"Not the same, is it? You didn't have to open that tent flap, and see her… lyin' there… See…" Jake's eyes clouded over as he became lost in his dark recollections, "see… all the blood, her clothes scattered. Feel her jump when I pushed her tangled hair back from her face… and see… that _look_, Sully…" Unconsciously, Jake's head had begun to shake slowly, "I ain't never seen no-one look like that my whole life…" He swallowed, still captivated at the haunting memory behind his eyes. "Can't describe it. Weren't just fear… or pain… was… a hopelessness… a… lostness… weren't until I could put it all together, that I could comprehend that look… when it all really hit me, ya know? Like she was dead on the inside… but that was worse than if I'd really found her dead…" Jake caught his breath, managing to prevent himself from letting the accumulated moisture behind his eyes transform into tears.

"I've… seen it, Jake… in other ways… but don't gotta be like that forever. That's why I'm bringin' her home… Ain't no-one gonna be able to help her heal more than this very town… ain't no people gonna care more…" Sully rested his right hand on the man's left wrist for several moments, allowing him time to recover from the emotional flashbacks.

"You're right. Sorry… I shouldn't have…" Jake attempted to dismiss his recent outburst with a quick wave of his right hand.

"Nothin' to apologize for… Ya know, Jake… you saved her life… ya all did… she wouldn't a lasted more than a few hours out there…" Sully turned back around in the chair, feeling the barber's fingers lock back around the edges of his hair.

"I know… just all seems rather pointless. Screwin' up so many people's lives… for nothin'…" Jake's tone of voice altered subtly, attempting to dismiss his previous concern through bitter words of anger.

"Maybe it don't gotta be for nothin'… maybe it's a chance for us to learn somethin'…" Sully rested his arms back against the soft fabric of the chair, feeling Jake continue his work.

"Ain't learnt nothin'… we all knew those injuns were a bunch a savages… This just proved it…" Sully chose to ignore Jake's comment, understanding that it was merely a way of coping with his distress.

No further words passed between the two men, as Jake finished trimming Sully's once thick crop of hair into a neat, styled cut. Turning to hand the man several coins in payment, Sully kept his voice dull and reassuring. "We all regret what happened, Jake… all wish we coulda stopped it… but it's too late for that… what matters is gettin' her back safe…" Sully bit his tongue, realizing he'd probably said too much. Not giving Jake the chance to pick him up on his words, Sully cleared his throat and strode back out onto the porch, making his way without hesitation towards the Clinic to meet Matthew and Colleen.


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63**

"What the…" Loren looked up from counting the loose change in the money tin in front of him, seeing the familiar faces beside the newly arrived stagecoach.

"Loren?" Dorothy heard the unconcealed shock in her brother-in-law's voice, and rose from her seat behind her desk, arriving by his side to follow his gaze out onto the main street.

"Oh my Lord…" She clasped her hands over her mouth, both individuals quickly bolting for the door leading out onto the porch.

"Now just you all look after yaselves… and… make sure ya all come back soon as ya can… don't go letttin' anyone go talkin' ya into leavin' us…" Olive stood by Colleen's side, her hands grasped protectively around the young girl's shoulders.

"Don't worry, Miss Olive…" Colleen looked back towards her brother for support, the young man handing the suitcases to the driver.

"Can't say how long we're gonna be… but promise ya… we'll _all _be returnin' this time…" Sully nodded reassuringly, directing Colleen towards the stage, as he noticed Loren and Dorothy emerge out onto the porch.

"Thanks, Miss Olive… gonna pay that money back to ya for the tickets, just as soon as I can…" Matthew reached forward to embrace the older woman in a tight hug.

"Don't you worry about that, son… just you get ya Ma and brother back safe… I'll handle everything 'round here…" Olive forced herself to release her grasp on the young man, watching him follow his sister into the coach.

"Thank-you, Olive…" Sully reached for her hand, the pair regarded each other for several moments, before Olive eventually broke the contact.

"Ain't seen ya look like that since little Abby…" She trailed off, resting a hand on Sully's shoulder as she gestured to his hair. "… I know now how much Dr. Mike means to ya… you just let her know she means as much to this town… and you promise her… gonna make it all right for her to come back here, no matter what… Gonna see to it she's got the support she needs… you just leave that to me…" Olive wiped the single tear from below her right eye, turning back towards the store as Sully continued behind Matthew, the door being closed behind him.

"Hey… Olive… what are they all doin'… how come I ain't heard 'bout this?" Dorothy hastily approached her sister-in-law's side, her intrigue anything but restrained.

"Cause you don't gotta know everythin' in this town, Dorothy… now, just shut up for five minutes… wave nicely… and maybe I'll take you for coffee over Grace's…" Olive dusted her hands against her hips, a warm, supportive grin filling her face as the children smiled nervously from inside the stagecoach.

Dorothy, her astonishment causing the blood to run from her face, kept her mouth tightly closed, looking from Olive back to the stage, her left hand raised uncertainly into an uncomfortable wave.

The women watched in silence as the coach departed down the main street, Dorothy turning to Olive without a second's hesitation the moment the excitement around them had died down.

"I take two sugars, thank-you…" She raised a single eyebrow, gesturing deliberately back down the main street, in the direction of Grace's café.

"That'd be right… need all the sweetenin' ya can get…" Olive lowered her gaze, her right hand picking up the edge of her skirt, as she reluctantly led the way.

**X.O.X**

Michaela felt the movement of the train cease, as she kept her gaze locked to the busy platform outside the window. She could feel familiarity creeping up on her as she noticed the finely dressed women waiting for the approaching train. Michaela dropped her gaze downwards for several moments, doubt suddenly seeping into her mind. She'd never considered until this point that her very surroundings would influence her in the profound way in which she now found they did.

She'd promised her mother almost a year ago to return… never envisaging it would be under such unbearable circumstances. Michaela could feel that she was home, though… and that it was not the same place she remembered it, quickly realizing however, that it was her who had changed. The lifeless buildings and bustling people before her eyes further entrenched her nervousness. Michaela turned to see Brian peering over her left shoulder, an excited smile etched onto his face.

Michaela let her eyes drop closed, forcing her breathing to regulate, as she willed the trepidation regarding the pending days to lessen. She reminded herself that Boston was not Colorado Springs; there was absolutely no reason for anyone to know who she was, or why she was here.

"Come on, Ma… let's go…" Brian stood from his seat, the second the train had come to a complete stop, lingering briefly in the doorway before moving quickly down the corridor.

"Brian…" Michaela criticized, shaking her head in frustration as the young boy continued regardless.

"You just take care, dear…" Matthew tipped his hat with a genuine smile, Marilla adding her support as Michaela reluctantly rose to her feet.

Michaela nodded politely, almost forgetting her medical bag as she left the small compartment, seeing Brian's small outline disappear through the carriage door.

Arriving onto the crowded platform, Michaela reached firmly for Brian's left shoulder, squeezing harshly against his small frame, as the young boy flinched at the painful contact.

"If you ever run off like that again, young man… I'll…" Michaela felt her jaw drop, realizing she actually had no possible reprimand.

"Oww, Ma…" He pulled his upper body away, slightly shocked that she'd caused him physical pain.

"Come along…" Michaela refused to look at him, instead taking off towards the baggage car to collect her luggage. Quickly glancing at the large clock on the stone wall in the distance, Michaela knew they didn't have long.

**X.O.X**

"Pregnant? But I didn't think… Are you sure?" Dorothy's eyes widened, her left hand shaking as she carefully brought the cup to rest on the top of the table.

"No… I made it up. For heaven's sake, Dorothy… 'course I'm downright sure, Colleen told me…" Olive looked around Grace's nervously, suddenly afraid that the over dramatic redhead would not be able to keep her emotions under control.

"No… of course…sorry… I… how could somethin' like this happen…" Dorothy looked back up at the older woman, receiving nothing more than a single raised eyebrow in response. "I don't mean, _how… _exactly… I mean… didn't think that was… possible…" Dorothy closed her mouth, disgusted nausea threatening to overtake her.

"I ain't no doctor, but I'd considered it months ago… even told Dr. Mike… and she flat denied it… reckon she was… trying to take matters into her own hands… literally…" Olive cleared her throat as Dorothy took several moments to comprehend her words.

"You ain't sayin' she… No, I can't believe that… Michaela mustn't have known… she'd never do somethin' like that…" Dorothy struggled to keep her voice hushed and clasped her hands together to distract herself from her own shock.

"Well, what the duce you think she's off doin', Dorothy… she ain't taken Brian on some holiday, ya know… don't think she was plannin' on tellin' any of us…" Olive saw Dorothy's hands twitch nervously against the checkered tablecloth.

"But that's a sin, Olive… against God… not to mention the law…" Dorothy took a breath, about to continue voicing her disapproval when Olive's strong voice overpowered her.

"For mercy's sake, Dorothy, are you really that narrow-minded! You'd really force Dr. Mike to suffer through such an ordeal… rather than go against some patriarchal belief? How can you be that cruel… and you call yourself a friend." Olive took several moments to study the other woman's confused and defensive expression.

"Well, no… but… don't change the fact that killing her own child is murder…"

"In the name of… ain't her child, you fool. That, thing is… a _mistake_… it's the spawn of evil, and don't you dare try to convince me otherwise. You were there, Dorothy… the day they brought her back into town… more dead than alive. You can't in any rational mind convince me that a child ought to come into the world like that… just wrong. Ain't gonna change my mind…" Olive pushed the chair back, rising to her feet and glancing back at Dorothy almost daring her to challenge her further.

"I don't know about that… ain't our place to question God's will…" Dorothy lowered her eyes, struggling with the questioning of her religious beliefs.

"What about Dr. Mike's? Don't she get a say once again? Or you reckon she oughta be violated all over again for the sake of some moral high ground?" Olive turned her head sharply in dismissal, her fury forcing her to make a quick exit.

"Olive…" Dorothy's face was red with torment, the older woman's words having left her in a state of total bewilderment; her personal principles being dashed to pieces in the wake of the unfolding nightmare.

**X.O.X**

Brian, his face lit with amused intrigue, watched as the bellhop led them into the room, placing the carpet bag against the delicately hewed wardrobe.

"Is there anything else, ma'am?" The young man smiled politely, seeing the delight in the little boy's eyes.

"No… thank-you…" Michaela dismissed him with a small shake of her head, Brian closing the door and beginning to explore the elaborately furnished hotel room.

"Wow, Ma… this is great… just like Grandma's…" He entered the finely detailed bathroom, eyes widening at the sight of the large bathtub.

"It's just… Boston, Brian. It's very different from Colorado…" Michaela stood awkwardly by the edge of the bed, deep in thought for several moments, before she began unpacking various items of clothing.

"I know… but… just forgot how much. Can we go to that candy place, Ma… the con… confect…" Brian frowned, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.

"Confectionary… No, Brian…" Michaela finished placing the rest of her clothing into the wardrobe.

"Aww…" The young boy continued to examine the room, his disappointment obvious.

"Right… come along…" Michaela glanced down at her medical bag on the corner of the large bed, before she quickly opened it and retrieved the small purse.

"Where we goin', Ma?" Brian tilted his head, however obediently made his way to the door.

"Where I say we're going, Brian…" Michaela attempted to hide her distraction, her eyes locking on the large black bag a final time, as she arrived by the door with only her small, blue purse.

"Ain't ya takin' it, Ma?" Brian raised his right hand forwards, noticing Michaela's preoccupation as she opened the door once again.

"No, sweetheart… let's, let's go…" Michaela drew a refreshing breath, guiding the child out into the hallway and locking the door behind her.

**X.O.X**

Myra carefully placed the last chosen apple into her basket, scratching the side of her head in momentary confusion.

"You feel all right, Miss Myra?" The young, Swedish girl appeared behind her, having been watching the brunette take great care in selecting the fresh produce.

"Oh… I'm fine, Ingrid… just tryin' to remember what else I needed for supper…apples for the pie… potatoes… carrots… that's it… carrots…" Myra flashed a satisfied smirk.

"That be what you forget?" Ingrid giggled lightly, seeing the sheer relief sweep over the expectant mother's face.

"That's it, exactly… My, I ain't been able to keep nothin' straight in my head for weeks, now… been so worried 'bout makin' sure I eat enough, sleep enough… just startin' to feel normal again, too…" The small-framed woman took several steps to arrive in front of the freshly displayed carrots, Ingrid slowly picking three potatoes from the neat selection.

"You must be scared, no?" Ingrid delicately slipped the last potato into the small basket hung over her left arm, making her way to Myra's side.

"No… not scared… couldn't be happier to tell ya the truth… feel like… for the first time in my life, everythin's where it should be… like I'm finally on the right path… probably sounds silly…" Myra dismissed her sentimental statement with a brush of her right hand.

"I do not think that… I feel same about me and Matthew… that we need wait awhile more… but then all will be as it should…" Her eyes drifted off dreamily into the distance.

"That's sweet, Ingrid… hey… Matthew spoke to you, didn't he? Before he left this mornin', I mean…" Myra reached her hand forwards to clasp it around the young girl's wrist in concern.

"Oh… of course… he not do something like that without telling me… I told him… go… he need to be with his family…" Ingrid nodded, her eyes locking squarely onto Myra's.

"He… he say why?" Myra pulled her eyes away, looking down at the dusty porch, very conscious of how prying her question had been.

"No… not say very much…" Ingrid shook her head honestly, reflecting on Myra's question for a moment before continuing. "He just say that he and Colleen needed to be with Brian and Dr. Mike… that because of what happen, Dr. Mike be upset… and need them all… I not like to ask more… is not my business…" Ingrid shrugged, barely managing to convince herself of her last statement.

"I suppose… oh, mornin' Miss Dorothy…" Myra corrected herself quickly, seeing the raised eyebrow from the redhead, "sorry… Dorothy… I keep forgettin'…" The brunette smiled apologetically, feeling the widow approach her; the older woman's presence soon becoming overbearing.

"Ladies…" Dorothy flashed a bright, yet relatively superficial grin at both Myra and Ingrid, being distracted by the burning desire to see if anyone else was aware of her newly discovered piece of gossip.

"So, he say they only be a few weeks… not like last time…" Ingrid continued the conversation, feeling uneasy as she noticed Dorothy lean in closer with intrigue.

"This about Matthew?" Dorothy cleared her throat, feeling absolutely no reservation whatsoever in broaching the sensitive subject.

"Yeah… poor Ingrid… but she's been mighty understanding…" Myra consoled, Dorothy's eyes glistening brightly as they continued the relevant conversation.

"Ain't got no choice really… will be somethin' this whole town's gonna have to be _mighty understandin'_ about… that is, if they manage to find her in time…" Dorothy busied herself rearranging the heads of lettuce on display, however being fully aware of just what she was doing. She wanted to see just what the general level of knowledge was, so she could drop the bombshell at a time that would be the most effective.

"Have I… Have I missed somethin'? I know I ain't been followin' much lately…" Myra watched Dorothy turn back to face them, the redhead barely able to contain the eagerness running through her veins.

"Well, I possibly shouldn't be saying anything… but then again… it's surely going to be something everyone'll be finding the truth out about sooner or later…" Dorothy turned around, leaning her back against the wooden display crates.

"Dorothy… don't keep us in suspense like this… if we're gonna find out anyway…" Myra pleaded, hating people who made a big deal out of what usually ended up being trivialities.

"Myra… ain't you… well… noticed Michaela actin' strangely for awhile now…?" Dorothy gestured far from subtly to Myra's waistline.

"Dorothy… just coz I'm havin' a baby… don't give me special powers or nothin'… Suppose she's been… quiet… not her normal self… but then, given everything that's happened, can't really expect her to be her normal self…" Myra turned her head to glance at Ingrid for several moments, the young girl also having no idea.

"Well… what if… it was something else… what if there was another explanation?" Dorothy clasped her hands behind her back slowly, her voice unusually crisp and stilted.

"Oh, come on… ain't what happened enough of a reason?" Myra dismissed Dorothy's interrogation hastily, before turning back to Ingrid, who had a far more contemplating expression on her face.

"Miss Dorothy, I not understand… you say there be something make Dr. Mike be more upset? Like what Matthew say? Why she not tell people? Why she run away when all her family here?" The seriousness and concern in Ingrid's voice was enough to draw Myra's attention back to Dorothy's aloof gaze.

"I… might know… and… I suppose it's not like I'm gossiping… it's… well… it's not an untruth… and it's not really… anything… unkind…" Dorothy adjusted her stance nervously, waiting for nearby shoppers to move away from them. The hesitation in her voice only caused Myra further aggravation.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Dorothy… you're makin' out like there's some big reason… it'll just turn out to be nothin'…" Myra shrugged the older woman off, turning back to the fresh produce to ensure she had all the required items.

"Suit yourself… only… most people are going to think a single woman havin' a baby is a big deal…" Dorothy folded her arms tightly across her chest, raising her left arm to indicate the townsfolk around them.

"Dr. Mike's pregnant?!" Myra hushed herself instantly, not having realized that the shock in her voice was conveyed through her increased pitch and volume. Glaring around nervously, Myra turned her head back to Ingrid when she heard the young girl's confused utterance.

"A baby…. But how? There be no father…" Ingrid raised her eyebrows in genuine bewilderment. Gradually working through her own question, she gasped, feeling a sharp pain radiate through the top of her left foot. "Oww… you… oh…" She looked down to see Myra's foot dug deep into hers, immediately grasping the situation, and trailing off in a disheartened sigh.

"Now maybe you'll see that we got some work to do 'round here… Olive told me Sully, Matthew and Colleen gone to get her back… so we're gonna have to get this town used to the idea… gonna be some people pretty against the notion…" Dorothy watched Myra's face melt into a distracted mortification.

"Aww… poor Dr. Mike… it's a wonder no-one figured it out sooner… she's gotta be at least a month further along than me… she musta known for ages now… musta been keepin' it to herself all this time … all alone… ain't it just horrible…" Myra's face crumpled, Dorothy clearing her throat in discomfort.

"Still don't make it right her just picking up and disappearing… separating little Brian from his brother and sister…" Dorothy smoothed the edges of her dress out, remaining firm in her moral principles.

"But Dorothy… she'd be desperate… I know what that's like… last year… workin' for Hank… thought I coulda been pregnant… didn't know what I was gonna do… and… yeah… that weren't after somethin' like what Dr. Mike's been through…" Myra watched as Ingrid struggled to interpret the complex dialogue.

"Ain't no excuse for killin' an innocent child… I mean, really… you'd think as a Doctor, she'd a been able to stop something like this… Surely she would have considered it from the start…" Dorothy's eyes took on a slightly critical glare, as her head shook several times in disbelief.

"Probably not. You remember how sick she was… then after all that… there was the town… people makin' a fuss a her and the children… Dr. Mike probably just wanted to put it all behind her… try and forget about it… for the children's sake." Myra sighed, dropping her head miserably.

"Yeah… that's what she said all right… and look where it got her." Dorothy glanced over her left shoulder as another interested bystander lingered behind her.

"You act like this is somehow her fault… and I'm tellin' ya… I know 'bout this stuff… and there ain't nothin' she coulda done to stop…" Myra paused, feeling a hand lock onto her shoulder.

"Afternoon, Horace…" Dorothy smiled quickly, immediately changing the subject; this issue still being one she considered women's business.

"Myra… you just about finished there, honey?" Horace rested his right hand softly on his wife's shoulder, not realizing the significance of the conversation he'd just intruded upon.

"Oh… yes… Dorothy… I really think _Hank_ would be dreadfully disappointed if he knew you were goin' 'round talkin' 'bout him like that… afternoon, Ingrid…" Myra forced a pleasant grin to her face, Ingrid doing likewise when she realized Myra's intention was to keep this news private.

Dorothy waited until Myra and Horace had made their way back inside to pay for their groceries, before she turned to the young girl. "Now, you understand it's best to keep this between us ladies… right, Ingrid?" Dorothy kept her voice lowered, and suitably manipulative.

"I think so… but not it be better to not tell persons in first place? Not our business to talk behind back… Matthew not tell me… then maybe wants no-one to know of this…" Her eyes blinked several times, trying to phrase her point in the best way she could.

"Maybe Matthew doesn't know, dear… After all… this is a girls' matter… I'm sure we'll know more once Sully and the children bring her home…" Dorothy worded her reply curtly, not liking one bit Ingrid's questioning of her actions.

"Yes… we know more then…" Ingrid turned to leave, but not before giving Dorothy a mild look of resentment, this going undetected by the older woman.

**X.O.X**

Michaela hastily paid the buggy driver, turning to locate Brian who'd quickly disappeared into the crowded street.

"Brian… Brian?" She saw the boy's small blond head of hair several yards away, bobbing in and out of view between the sea of faces.

Having no choice but to pursue through the busy street after him, Michaela arrived behind him, gripping his right wrist tightly, and pulling him back in her intended direction.

"Ma… wanted to go… oww… ya hurtin' me…" He squirmed in a desperate attempt to free himself from her firm grasp.

"Just be quiet, Brian… please…" Michaela felt her chest tighten, as she struggled to catch her breath after chasing the young boy.

"But… wanted to go see to the confectionary, Ma… I remember… it's…" He turned back quickly, trying to discern his location amongst the unfamiliar streets.

"Brian… I mean it… if you mention candy one more time, you'll be going home on your own," Michaela felt the child's weight pull against her, as she continued back up the street.

"But Ma…" Brian hung his head momentarily lost for words. Quickly recovering, however, he saw a solution to the problem, "well, why can't I go see Grandma? Why can't ya just leave me with Grandma… if ya don't want me 'round and gonna be so mean all the time…" Brian managed to free his right arm, having no intention of giving into the injustice he felt was being forced upon him.

"Because… I said so!" Michaela ran the palms of her hands down her face in exasperation. Brian looked down to his wrist, rubbing it soothingly, as he waited for further instruction.

"Sorry, Ma," he whispered, letting his arms fall by his sides, and giving her his full, resigned, attention.

"Sweetheart… for the next few days… you're just going to have to do things you don't like… you're going to have to wait around… and be quiet… and do what you're told. I'm sorry it has to be like that… but I _promise_, once this next week is over, we'll be going home… and everything will be all right… please, just trust me…" Michaela brought her right hand to the back of the child's head, pulling him to her side as he warmly wrapped an arm around her waist, his small fingers clutching to the waistband of her skirt.

There was something in the weariness and softness of her voice that convinced the young boy of her sincerity. He had no understanding of her position, however knew when he'd pushed her far enough. "I'll be good, Ma…" The child reached for her hand, and took several steps back in their original direction.

Michaela barely had time to comprehend the boy's compliance before she realized he was leading her back in the direction they'd previously come from.

"Which way, Ma?" Brian stopped, suddenly realizing he didn't even know where they were going.

"Oh… this… this way, Brian…" Michaela attempted to shrug off the clouded daze of confusion, and brought herself to her senses, reaching for her purse so as to check the address.


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64**

The young brunette looked up with a warm smile, seeing the woman and small boy enter the room from the door opposite her desk.

"Good afternoon?" She glanced down briefly at the schedule of appointments, before smiling as the young child sat obediently on the dark green velvet chair by the far wall.

"Yes…" Michaela approached the desk, as her surroundings began to take on a somewhat surrealistic quality. This was it. Finally. The moment she'd been planning for and worrying about for over a month, now. She was standing in the very doctor's room. Glancing in distraction to her right, Michaela saw Brian, his attention absorbed in a nearby medical journal, before she turned back towards the woman seated at the desk, choosing her words tentatively. "I wish to… that is… might I make an appointment to see Dr. Storer, please…" Michaela felt her voice echo around her, nervousness at her impending actions weighing down on her shoulders.

"Why, of course, ma'am… any particular day?" The young nurse flipped the appointment books in her hands, as she reached for a pencil in front of her.

"As soon as possible…" Michaela interlocked her hands loosely in front of her, feeling off-balance without the weight and security of her medical bag in her right hand.

"Well… he's not seeing anyone at the moment… I'll check if it's convenient…" The woman rose to her feet, and, with a warm smile, departed swiftly into the adjoining room.

Michaela let the gracious smile fall from her face the moment the woman had turned away from her. She swallowed and took several steps across the room to Brian's side, seeing the confused interest with which he was studying the material in his hands.

"Hey, Ma… what's… a tri… trimester…?" He pointed to the unfamiliar word within the paragraph he had been reading.

Michaela frowned momentarily, before suddenly realizing the material her son would be reading. Taking a seat next to him, she cleared her throat, a clinical detachment coming automatically to her voice.

"Trimester, Brian… is from the Latin, meaning a period of three months… however, I suspect you are referring to it in the gestational sense of the word... a pregnancy is divided into three trimesters, each of which last for approximately twelve weeks…" Michaela welcomed the professional distraction, paying no attention to her subconscious thoughts.

"Ah… ok… coz there's this table that shows… hey Ma… which one is our baby in?" Brian turned the journal towards her, as Michaela heard the assertive male voice from across the room.

"Madam?" Michaela looked up, dismissing Brian's query in a heartbeat. As she rose to her feet, Michaela felt a hand grip her wrist.

"Can't I come, Ma?" Brian closed the book, his eyes bright and hopeful.

"No. Now Brian, you need to stay here. Don't move, and just… read…" Michaela tapped the top of the book, before quickly being ushered into the immaculately furnished examination room.

"Do take a seat… I had a cancellation, so I was able to fit you in…" The dark-haired physician beckoned, as he gestured to the leather chair in front of his desk. Michaela glanced back at him once again, determining him to be perhaps only several years older than herself, and of extreme competence and pride.

"Thank-you… I…" Michaela glanced down at the large oak desk in front of her, as he took his seat opposite her, realizing she hardly knew where to begin. "I understand you're one of the most respected obstetrician's on the East coast… and…" Michaela saw him turn away, his right hand moving to dismiss her.

"Please… I appreciate your flattery, however, it is unnecessary… It is you I wish to discuss… now… let's just get a few details shall we?" Dr. Storer opened the crisp new patient folder, before dipping his pen in the ink well beside him.

"Name?" Michaela let her eyes drift from the edge of the oak desk, knowing that a complete history taking was inevitable, and wishing with every ounce of her being, that she'd prepared for it earlier.

"Michaela…" She waited until he commenced writing, several possible alternatives flashing through her mind. "… Cooper…" She drew a breath, ensuring her reply was not overly suspicious.

"Date of birth?" Michaela turned her head to glance around the spotlessly tidy room, seeing for the first time, the array of specialization-specific equipment and charts.

"February fifteenth, eighteen thirty-three…" The physician remained consumed by the precisely printed form in front of him. Michaela again returned her focus to the gestational chart that hung over the precisely made-up examination table.

"Now, what brings you here this afternoon?" He placed the writing instrument back in the gold-plated quiver.

"I… need your help… with respect to a pregnancy…" Michaela forced herself to meet the Doctor's eyes, aware of the enormity of her impending request.

"I see…" He rested back further in his chair, hands folding against his chest, slightly intrigued as to the phrasing of the woman's response.

"Well… perhaps I shouldn't put it quite…" Michaela saw his moustache twitch, stopping herself abruptly as his stern, yet compassionate voice continued.

"Let's just… start at the beginning, shall we? You believe yourself to be pregnant?" He saw the physical anguish appear on the woman's face, however maintained a suitable professionalism.

"I know I… I mean… yes…" Michaela felt the tedium of having to play medical incompetence gnaw on her patience.

"And this has not been verified medically up until this point?" He pulled his arms further across his chest, seeing the awkwardness in his patient's eyes.

"Yes. I… mean, well… not really…" Michaela felt the deception conveyed through the uncertainty of her words.

"My dear… you don't appear terribly certain…" Horatio wasted no time in standing from his chair, pacing around the side of the desk to gesture for Michaela to rise also. "Perhaps we might take this one step at a time… come over here… settle yourself down…" He crossed the room, his right hand falling to the corner of the examination table.

"Is this really necessary?" Michaela acquiesced reluctantly, allowing him to assist her awkwardly until she was sitting on the edge of the table. This was certainly not going to plan.

"Mrs. Cooper… I fail to see how you can expect me to confirm a pregnancy without a medical examination…" He shook his head with a calming smile, managing to persuade Michaela further back onto the table.

"You're right… I… I'm sorry…" Michaela carefully unbuttoned the clasp on the back of her satin skirt, before settling herself on her back. Her hair crushed against the soft, white pillow underneath her.

"Right…. Now that we've sorted that out… I take it this is your first pregnancy?" Michaela felt her breathing rise in her chest, a surge of anxiety running through her upper body the moment she felt the Doctor's hands reach the waistband of her lilac skirt.

"Yes…" She felt her arms clench by her sides, sensing every minute movement of his fingertips as he delicately pulled her blouse from her skirt, undoing several buttons, and pushing her chemise away to expose her bare flesh.

"And you've not seen a doctor until now?" Dr. Storer lowered his fingers gently against her protruding abdomen, delicately pushing her undergarments away, so as to carry out the necessary examination.

"N-No…" Michaela felt her voice crack in her throat, turning her head so as to keep her eyes locked on the solid oak desk across the room, willing herself to ignore the sensation of his hands upon her sensitive skin.

"Well, I certainly see now why you rebuked my suggestion of confirming such a pregnancy… although you've managed to conceal it quite well." He repositioned his hands over the lower portion of her pelvis, hearing Michaela's involuntary gasp of protest. "Sorry… is there any discomfort?" He reduced the applied pressure, content that the fetus was correctly positioned.

"No… it's fine… everything's… as it should be, isn't it?" Michaela managed to dampen her obvious ill-ease, noticing the physician leave her side momentarily.

"Everything appears perfectly normal…" Horatio crossed the room. He reached for his stethoscope with one hand, and Michaela's chart with another. "How far along do you suppose you are?" He scribbled some notes down, suspecting his patient would require some time to consider the question.

"Nineteen weeks…" Michaela turned her head away sharply, knowing that she'd allowed this pregnancy to continue far too long. Chastising herself for denying the truth for so long, she let her eyes drop closed. The feel of the cold, metal implement against her skin, caused her to gasp audibly, pulling instinctively away, before she realized the harmlessness of the physician's actions.

"Nothing to be alarmed about…" He continued the exam in silence for several moments. Michaela deflected her eyes once again, knowing exactly what he was doing. She couldn't deny the guilt running through her veins; she knew that this child now had a detectable heartbeat; and that fact alone proved the existence of life beyond any other.

"There… everything sounds absolutely as it should be…" He nodded several times, unable to hide the emotion in his voice as he took in the regular rhythm of the child's fluttering heartbeat beneath his fingers. "Here…" Horatio slipped the stethoscope from his ears, proffering it to his patient encouragingly.

"I… no, it's all right…" Michaela dug her right hand further into her side, half of her truly wanting to hear for herself, that which she knew was an unquestionable reality; the rest of her heart knowing that if she dared, it would make the vital avoidance measures all the more reprehensible.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, I promise you…" Dr. Storer shrugged, as he placed the stethoscope back around his shoulders, and with all professional decency, repositioned his patient's clothing.

"I know that," Michaela retorted defiantly, beginning to feel ever-so-slightly patronized. She quickly reminded herself however, that it was because she was being treated as a naïve housewife, and being given absolutely no credit for her vast physiological and obstetrical expertise.

"I apologize if I offended you… it just appeared... well, rather a lot of first-time mothers are understandably apprehensive of what is really a routine, and natural experience." His words were soft and calming. Michaela finished tucking her blouse back neatly into her skirt, before looking up to watch as he continued making notes in her chart. One confusing thought lingered in her mind: _Where have I heard those words before?_

**X.O.X**

"I'll bet you're looking forward to being the big brother, aren't you?" The young nurse crossed the room, having finished sorting patient files into their appropriate drawers.

"Uh-huh… but only if it's a boy… coz I already got a big sister…" Brian looked up from the journal he was making out to be completely comprehending.

"Well, don't think you're going to have much of a say in that one at all…" The young woman chuckled, idly tidying the otherwise empty waiting room.

"Why not? Who gets to decide?" Brian frowned, worried that his mother may prefer a girl.

"No-one… well… God, I suppose," The brunette took a seat by the small boy, having finished her work for the afternoon, and feeling sorry for the obviously bored child.

"Then, do ya think if I pray real hard, and ask for a baby brother, I'll get one?" Brian's hopes were renewed, closing the booklet in his hands.

"Perhaps… it's either going to be one or the other… so you've a good chance…" She smiled, looking around the office for something more interesting to amuse the young boy.

"Here… I don't know if you like drawing or anything…?" She placed several blank pieces of writing paper down on the small table to Brian's right, and handed him a pencil.

"It's all right… ain't real good at it or nothin'…" Brian busied himself beginning to sketch the first thing that came to mind.

"You've been really patient, waiting for your mother like this… most boys your age wouldn't be able to be so well behaved…" The nurse smiled, returning to glance quickly over the appointment schedule before her.

"I'm kinda used to it. Have to wait while Ma sees patients sometimes… but then usually have Pup to play with… or… can go over the store, see Mr. Bray…" Brian continued moving the fine pencil across the blank stationery.

"Oh? What… sort of patients?" She frowned, realizing that the physician had no more appointments for that afternoon.

"Everyone… just who ever needs a doctor…" Brian lowered his voice, beginning to detail his drawing more delicately.

"You mother's a doctor?" The young woman's face revealed her obvious shock, as she looked in disbelief between the small child, and the door in which the aforementioned woman had just passed through.

"Yeah… which is great 'cept when she's the one needin' a doctor… then there's nobody…" Brian put the finishing touches to his quick work of art, looking up as he placed the pencil onto the table gently.

"You're not from around here… are you?" The nurse saw the saddened expression cross the boy's face, and once again rose from her chair, crossing the room to take a seat by his side.

"Uh-uh… from Colorado… and we got to come all this way on account of Ma havin' a baby…" Brian looked back across from his finished drawing, almost forcing himself into what he considered a necessary smile.

"That's a long way… just the two of you?" She knew she was prying, however the young boy appeared to be troubled by something, and surely polite conversation would do no harm.

"Yeah… but am glad we finally got here… maybe now Ma won't be so angry…" Brian began idly running the pencil over a fresh sheet of paper, his arm movement becoming more hasty and careless.

"Surely she isn't angry at you, is she?" The nurse paused, realizing she didn't even know the child's name. "I'm sorry… haven't even introduced myself… I'm Lucy. What's your name?" She saw the child's right hand slow, as he turned back around from his work.

"Brian… I like that name, Lucy… is it all right me calling you that?" He frowned, never normally being granted permission to call adults by their Christian names.

"Of course, Brian… I'm not that much older than you anyway… you're eleven…twelve?" Lucy smiled, deliberately being generous in her guesses.

"Just ten, Miss… Lucy…" He returned his attention to his drawing, beginning to take more care with the sketch.

"May I see the other drawing?" The nurse questioned. Her voice was sincere and unrushed.

"Guess so…" Brian shrugged, slowly passing her the original drawing.

"Is this you? And your mother?" Lucy looked down at the simplistic sketch before her. She could make out two faces, and what appeared to be a train.

"Yeah… that's on the train comin' here… I dunno why I drew that…" Brian turned his attention back to his current work, putting the finishing touches on the drawing.

"You look happy… but your mother doesn't… she looks sad, Brian…" Lucy observed, careful to keep her voice questioning and free from accusation.

"I know… I was lookin' forward to the trip… but Ma's been sad the whole time… either really sad… or really angry…" Brian looked over his second drawing for several moments, his gaze alternating between the off-white paper and the nurse to his left.

"Well… I shouldn't worry too much, Brian… having a baby sometimes is a very confusing thing for a woman… because it changes your body… Lots of women say they feel sad and don't know why… but maybe the Doctor will be able to help your mother?" Lucy encouraged, as she was handed the second drawing.

"Maybe… hope so… coz I miss Ma being the way she was before… like… she'd do all these things people didn't like… like… organize meetin's… and tell people they were doin' things wrong… and try and change things…" Brian shook his head, disregarding the reminiscence.

"She'll do all those things again, I'm sure honey… now… what's this?" Lucy raised her right eyebrow, letting her mouth fall into a broad smile, as she attempted to steer the conversation in a more positive direction.

"This real pretty fountain… in the hotel where we're stayin'…" He trailed off, discussing the events of the previous week with his newly acquainted 'friend', talking her through the excitement of his train trip, as well as some of his more recent memories.

**X.O.X**

"Ah, the first of February…" Dr. Storer looked up with a sincere smile, tapping the pencil lightly against the cardboard file.

"I… I'm sorry…?" Michaela finished smoothing out her skirt, having managed to pull herself back up into a sitting position on the edge of the table.

"Well… from the information you've provided me with, along with the examination I've just conducted… you should expect to be holding that little one around the beginning of February… give or take a…" The bearded physician looked up, hearing the woman's voice.

"No… wait…" Michaela slipped down from the edge of the table awkwardly, her hands whitening as she struggled to find the words to even begin to plead her case.

"Is there something wrong? You stated that you believed yourself…" Horatio blinked in confusion, placing the neatly completed chart on the desk beside him.

"It's… not that… I have no doubt as to the accuracy of your calculations, Doctor… that isn't what I was referring to…" Michaela crossed the room, arriving behind the polished leather chair. Dropping her clasped hands in front of her to grip the back of the chair, she looked back towards the physician, her hesitant movement and nervous stance conveying her anxiety.

"I'm sorry…?" He frowned, noticing the paleness of the woman's knuckles.

"This isn't… I… I haven't been entirely honest with you… on several accounts… I didn't expect you to be… well… from your letter, I didn't envisage you being so… accommodating…" Michaela paused as she struggled to plan the future direction of her request.

"Letter… I don't remember any…?" Again the physician was slightly surprised by the speed of the woman's retort.

"I wrote to you… I'd imagine you'd not remember, perhaps that is for the best… However… I thought that my coming to see you in person… might… prove more persuasive… At the time I wrote to you, I thought there might be measures I myself could take… however… I…" Michaela stumbled on her final words, seeing the Doctor pace around quickly to the back of his desk, opening the top drawer slightly violently.

"You mean _this_, Madam?" Michaela felt a cold shiver move down her spine as he tossed the open envelope onto the polished oak surface between them.

She merely nodded in confirmation, watching the physician's facial expression and demeanor shift drastically in a fraction of a moment.

"I see… I knew something was amiss… no _mother_ remains so obviously unattached to her child, as you have throughout your presence here this afternoon… not to mention the use of a false name…" The tone of his voice darkened with each word, Michaela drawing a breath to fuel herself for a desperate reply.

"Please… if you'll just allow me to…" Michaela's eyes widened as her mouth closed firmly, hearing the fury in the man's response.

"I will not allow another moment of such… such… hypocrisy!" Horatio strode around brusquely to Michaela's side, both pausing as they studied the equal, unwavering determination in the other's eyes.

"I know you must think me heartless… but in my letter I didn't…" Michaela pulled her arms tightly to her sides, feeling the air rush past her right ear as the man opposite her again launched into his defensive rant.

"Heartless, is an understatement… and I will not stand here, and attempt intellectual conversation with an ignorant harlot, who has neither comprehension, nor respect for the very essence of life which…" He saw Michaela's face redden, as she lifted her gaze, her plea emotionally weighted, if not strengthen by pitch or volume.

"Enough! You don't know me… you know nothing about me… so how can you presume to speak to me in…" Michaela alternated her gaze from the physician's shoulder, not able to look him in the eye; to his medical degree on the wall behind him.

"There is nothing more I need to know about any woman, who would contemplate the senseless destruction of her own child…" He saw her expression melt slowly from anger and shock, into emptiness.

Michaela looked up sharply, her tear-filled eyes locked with the physician's immediately. Perhaps he was right. Having not received an opposing reply, the older man realized the distraught woman before him was faced, perhaps for the first time, with her own culpability.

"Please… I… I would never want for that… but... I didn't… control was taken out of my hands…" Michaela returned her focus to the framed parchment, as she awaited what she expected would be another cold reply.

The physician held back from his initial skeptical response of disbelief, observing the woman before him. Taking in her slightly disheveled and ragged appearance, Horatio could still sense the nobility of her upbringing through her refined speech and deliberate vocabulary. He brought his right hand to his beard for several moments, deciding now was not the occasion for polite tact, nor embellished courtesy.

"Are you saying… you were violated?" He chose his words precisely, so as to gauge from her reaction, the level of truth.

"Yes…" Michaela could barely hear her own reply, her eyes pulling away from the physician's qualifications reluctantly. She could sense the disgrace as a tingling which ran along her hands and arms. As their eyes finally locked together, Michaela felt her breath catch in her throat; aware that her very presence before him was an admission of compliance.

"Then I apologize for my earlier harshness… you must understand… this is not an area in which I feel dispassionate about; and I have seen too many women calling for such destruction purely because they do not wish for another mouth to feed…" He saw the hesitant optimism appear behind her large, soulless eyes.

"You will help me?" Michaela kept her voice timid, not wishing to appear overly pleased by his gentle manner.

"Not in the way you, wish... what, perhaps, you fail to understand… is that human life… at any stage of development… is still that; life. And it is not our right to neither judge nor tamper with, that which has been predetermined. I know many women do not consider the child in the womb a living being until its movement can be detected, and I would not blame you for falling for such hearsay… however, I assure you, your child is alive… a heartbeat was detected… and if that is not evidence of life, then…" Horatio watched his patient's face drop, sensing her dissatisfaction with his answer.

Michaela had struggled to remain silent throughout the patronizing lecture; however could no longer contain her frustration; he considered her merely uninformed regarding her condition.

"Stop, please… I know… that is, I do not question for a moment, the scientific accuracy of your statements… Do not regard me as some uneducated housewife… it is not naivety that brings me here… is it desperation. I have tried to handle this situation myself… unsuccessfully. There is no-body else who can help me… you're my last chance…" Michaela waited for the older man to digest her words, his confusion masking as consideration.

"If you are as aware of the distinction of life, as you so claim… then… why do you not appreciate the immorality of your desires?" Dr. Storer frowned, as he began to piece together the woman's sophisticated language, with her bold request.

"Because… forcing my family… to live with the consequences of this pregnancy is a far greater injustice. I can live with _my_ actions… with knowing I've broken my vows, but I cannot live with the shame it would inflict upon my family… upon myself…" Michaela found her lower lip with her teeth, looking away so as to hide the tears which had collected in her eyes. She studied the finely detailed rug which covered the dark wooden floorboards, feeling as though a response would never come.

"Surely, if your family are aware of the direness of the situation… there are places you could go until this child is born… As for breaking your vows, I think you are being too harsh on yourself… nobody from any decent background would attach any blame to you… surely… your husband… you yourself realize that the biology of conception is independent of consent." He lowered his voice, seeing the detrimental effect his words were inflicting upon Michaela.

"I didn't mean that… I…" Michaela shrugged, confused by the emotional shift in the man's tone and posture. Having told him the truth had certainly at least appeared to instill a newfound compassion and sensitivity to his responses.

"I'm sorry… I know that for many women, the guilt of such dishonor causes them to feel they have betrayed their husbands, however, those of any character are able to…" The physician found himself once again cut-off by the sharp, forceful reply of the woman who stood opposite him.

"I'm… not married… I did not mean it…." Michaela shook her head wearily, feeling as though she was fighting an uphill battle, however knowing this was her final resort.

"Again, I apologize for assuming… but I thought you said betrayal of vows… forgive me, but…" Horatio leaned carefully back against the large desk behind him, further intrigued by the situation unfolding before him.

"I meant, my vow to God, _Doctor_. The preservation of life… _Primum non nocere_…" Michaela saw his eyes shimmer in immediate comprehension. The final piece to the puzzle before him had just been placed.

"You… You're a physician?" Horatio turned sharply, reaching for the envelope on the desk so as to check her identity.

"Perhaps now, you might understand why this is all the more difficult…" Michaela drew a breath, however not managing to prevent the single tear which trailed down from her right eye.

"Quinn… Quinn… not… dear God…" Horatio tapped the envelope against his chin several times, before looking back at the petite woman less than a yard away from him. His voice lowered, his reaction contained in a hushed disbelief; "Josef's daughter?" He saw her mouth twitch at the mention of the deceased physician's name.

"Please… help me…" Michaela's head was lowered, her voice directed towards the ground below her, knowing she had potentially jeopardized her father's, indeed her entire family's reputation, in what had been an emotionally charged outburst.

Michaela waited, hearing no verbal reply for what felt like an eternity. Gradually lifting her head, she saw the physician pace slowly back around his desk, taking a seat, and interlocking his fingers together.

"I'm sorry… I think you need to leave, at once…" His voice was curt and cold once again. He raised his right arm in gesture towards the large wooden door through which Michaela had entered.

"I don't understand… you led me to believe…" Michaela looked down at the small, faded envelope placed neatly in the middle of the desk, the man's booming response gaining her immediate attention.

"I led you to believe nothing. The fact that you dared to show your face, after signing your name to such a document, convinces me only of your unfaithfulness as a physician. And I take that far more seriously than your callousness as a woman…" Horatio watched her brow crumple, reflecting on the time he'd spent in her father's company over the past two decades.

"Please… I know this is wrong… I know that this violates my oath… but please… believe me… it is not something I take lightly… and it is truly something I never intended to have to…" Michaela felt her spirits sink deep into her chest, feeling once again as if her words were falling on deaf ears.

"Your immorality appalls me, Miss. What would your family think, if they knew someone of your upbringing was contemplating such a sin? What would your father say? Josef was a man of fine character, he would have never condoned such a criminal act… you should be ashamed of yourself…" Horatio gestured sharply to the envelope in the middle of the desk, remembering more specifically the content of the letter he'd received over a month ago.

"Don't talk about my father… that's none of your business. Do you know what it took to come here? Do you have any idea… of… of what I've put myself through to try and circumvent this…" Michaela pulled her head swiftly to her right, feeling the embarrassment and degradation renew itself.

"That… does not dissuade me… on the contrary, doctor, although I use the term loosely, given your flagrant disregard for your obligations as a physician. I suggest you accept the reality of your situation without haste, and start taking your health seriously. Can't your family… provide some assistance, there is no expectation that you keep this child, you only need to fulfill the requirements God has placed on you, and carry this fetus to term," He leant forward in his leather chair, and rested his elbows firmly on the edge of the desk; as if to physically strengthen the delivery of his words.

"No, I can't… I… I've… responsibilities… that is why I need your help…" Michaela gripped her right hand more firmly against her side, her fingers curling into a tight fist, the continued assumption that breaking such news to her family would be a trivial task proving more frightening that the albeit threatening tone in which the content was being delivered.

"You've responsibilities to your unborn child. Now, I've offered you several options: consult with your family, of which I personally know is extensive, and able to be of considerable assistance, or simply find a discrete location where you might further conceal your condition until such time as the situation has… remedied itself. There's nothing more I can do…" He unlocked his fingers, and extended his hands out in dismissal.

"I can't have this baby," Michaela tilted her head slightly, her jaw tightening so as to further illustrate her conviction. Her resolve did not sway the doctor in the least. His reply was equally direct.

"That… is not up to you. That has already been decided by a higher power," Horatio rose to his feet, having decided that this conversation needed to be halted, for there would be no changing his mind. "Now… you will leave this office at once… or I will summon the constabulary and have you thrown in jail… and I'll tell you this… I've got colleagues throughout this state, indeed this very country… who share my views. I so much as hear your name mixed up with any improprieties, I'll not only see you up on charges… at the very least I'll have your license… as your actions are in direct violation of your very oath as a physician, and the AMA would have you disbarred without hesitation," Dr. Storer arrived to his feet, and reached for the unclaimed envelope as he crossed back around to the front of the desk. He saw the woman involuntarily dissolve into wracked sobs in front of him.

"Stop… please…" The man's harsh words had left Michaela unable to think clearly. Her mind was an ever-changing flash of images and sounds; her father, her graduation; her Clinic… her identity in every way was being threatened, and once again, she was unable to defend herself. Michaela felt her arms cross over her chest, her upper body heaving with previously contained emotion; none of this was her fault, however she was the one being punished; and in every way imaginable.

"I see I've got your attention at last… Come now… don't distress yourself further… here… sit down… just take a moment…" He reached for her shoulder, in an attempt to guide her back to the leather chair nearby. She stepped back away from his grasp, feeling the sternness of his rigid touch.

"No… you don't understand, you've got to help me… please…" Michaela's final plea was raw; her voice void of its precision and confidence. She looked down as he handed her the envelope back; in that small motion attempting to convey a pity; that by returning the single piece of written evidence of her criminal intent, he was granting her a second chance. Michaela was too desperate, however to rationally interpret the significance of this gesture.

"The only help I will provide to you, _Doctor, _is to see that your baby is brought safely to term… From there, the choice is yours… Aside from that, you… do not have a choice in the matter…" Michaela noticed her helplessness translate into breathlessness.

She turned back towards the large wooden door, knowing this had been for nothing. She was back to where she had started, only with the potential for far worse damage to be done. Michaela knew he could divulge this shattering information to any of a dozen colleagues of her father's, who, in turn would see that this was passed on to her mother… and… in that single moment, Michaela wished with all her soul that she'd done something differently.

"I never did," she whispered in weak exasperation, before she gathered her purse from the chair and fled the examination room.

"Ma?" Brian looked up, hearing the door open and Michaela emerge; her expression blank, her body physically numb by this stage.

"Ma… you all right?" He frowned, noticing her flushed, tear-stained face, as well as her jilted movements.

Getting slowly to his feet, Brian watched as his mother, her head still lowered, walked across the small room, seemingly oblivious to his presence.

"I… gotta go…" Brian chewed nervously on his lower lip, attempting to apologize for his quick departure. Looking quickly from the confused nurse who remained at her desk, Brian broke out into a hurried pace, struggling to maintain close proximity behind her, as Michaela departed swiftly from the room, not a sound passing from her lips.

"Brian…?" Lucy stood slowly, barely having had time to perceive the chain of events she'd just witnessed, however sighing softly to herself when she saw the two drawings still resting on the corner of the small table.


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65**

"Ma…? What happened, Ma? With the doctor… was he mean, Ma? How come you're upset, Ma?" Brian continued after Michaela, his panic fuelling his quick movement down the steps of the stone building and out onto the street, before he was able to catch up with her.

"Ma, ain't ya heard me?" Brian reached her side, nervously reaching forwards to pat her lower left arm.

"No… this isn't happening…" Michaela remained unresponsive to both her son's verbal and physical prompting, lost in her own unconscious world of threats and humiliation.

"What ain't happening, Ma? Are we goin' back to the hotel…?" Brian narrowed his eyebrows, unable to discern his mother's intentions from her aimless pacing along the edge of the sidewalk.

Michaela remained seemingly unaware of her location, as well as the presence of the child by her side, her arms locked protectively against her chest, her expression tormented, yet vacant at the same time.

"Shall I get a buggy, Ma? Take us back to the hotel?" Brian tried again to secure a firm grip to her arm, Michaela never ceasing in her movements along the pavement.

"What am I going to do? Why is this happening?" Michaela drew a noisy breath, her throat obstructed by tears.

"I'll get a buggy, Ma… then we can…" Brian dropped his jaw, sensing that his mother was not hearing him, however the thought of this isolation proving too petrifying to pursue.

The young boy looked up and down the busy street for several moments, before eventually waving down a passing driver and turning back towards Michaela.

"Come on, Ma…" He beckoned softly, as he tugged gently on her left wrist and indicated the awaiting transport.

"Ma…?" Brian's forehead crinkled, again pulling more firmly on her arm, until she moved towards the buggy, her expression still remaining detached and lost.

"Where you off to, son?" The middle-aged driver inquired, turning around from the horse.

"The… The Radisson, please, sir…" He felt his stomach leap into his throat, suddenly realizing that for whatever reason, responsibility for their destination was being placed squarely on his shoulders.

As the horses moved into a slow walk, their pace quickening into a trot, Brian turned back to Michaela, hoping that after some time had passed she might respond to his words.

"Ma? It's the right place, ain't it? The Radisson?" He whispered, again nudging her arm with his right elbow.

Brian felt his confidence renewed as Michaela turned around slowly in response to his question. His optimistic expression dropped immediately, however, seeing the blank, unrecognizing dullness of her appearance.

"Ma? Please… say somethin'… ya worryin' me…" He pleaded, running his hand along her lower left arm, watching her look without physical response between the contact, and the child sat by her side.

"It's me, Ma… It's Brian… Ma… ya feelin' all right?" He gradually let his right hand drop from her arm, determining his actions to have had no effect on her whatsoever.

After several moments of silence, Michaela turned her attention back out to the passing scenery, Brian left with no choice but to do likewise.

**X.O.X**

"Thank-you… here…" Brian tentatively reached for the dark blue purse that hung around Michaela's left wrist, quickly counting out the correct amount of money, and handing it to the driver.

"This is the right place, Ma… see… I was right…" Brian felt his voice rise in his throat, thinking that perhaps once they'd arrived back to their hotel, Michaela would respond.

Jumping down from the buggy after her, the small boy took a meaningful glance at the peaceful fountain to his right as they entered the lobby, Michaela leading in a non-hurried pace several steps ahead of him.

"It's all right, Ma… we're back… ya can tell me now… was it something the doctor said… made ya upset?" Brian commenced once they'd left the crowded foyer, beginning the first flight of crimson carpeted stairs. Still Michaela did not respond, but instead delicately lifted the edge of her skirt to prevent tripping on the steps.

"Was it bad, Ma? Is the baby all right? Is that why you were seein' the doctor? Is something wrong with the baby?" He felt the fears multiply exponentially in his mind, quickly deducing that something being wrong would explain Michaela's out-of-character behavior.

By this stage, they had arrived in the long corridor which led to their room. Brian looked frantically from his mother's trance-like expression and back down along the corridor. "Maybe… maybe if ya just have a rest for awhile? Ma always used to say that plenty a rest was always good… then ya might feel better?" Brian nodded several times, trying more to ease his own concern than influence Michaela's actions.

"Here, Ma…" He again slipped her purse from her wrist, locating the room key and pushing the door open for her.

Michaela's face animated for the first time, the moment her eyes had adjusted to the darkened room before her. There; on the edge of the bed; exactly as she had left it hours earlier, was her black leather medical bag.

"Ma?" Brian's voice was slightly higher in pitch, his hopes had been replenished by the life which he saw return to his mother's eyes. The young boy let his utterance pass, instead, closing the door and looking back to see Michaela dash quickly across the room to take possession of the large, yet malleable object. Slipping her dark blue purse securely inside, Michaela paced several steps across the room, consumed with the mere sensation of the weight of the object in her arms. Brian frowned, confused by the desperate manner in which her fingers clutched the bag.

Brian paced carefully back across the room to arrive by Michaela's side, his head tilted in worry when still, she did not utter a single word. "How… how come ya left it, Ma?" He whispered, however his expectation of a reply had dissipated.

Brian's eyes widened, as Michaela, her fingernails dug violently into the soft leather of the bag, let her weight drop down to the corner of the large, immaculately made up bed. Her face gradually lowered, and still she remained silent. About to change the subject, and enquire as to when they would be having supper, Brian was startled by a sudden shrill whimper; the kind he had heard on several occasions when he'd accidentally stepped on Pup's paw.

"Ma?" He blinked, as if in attempt to persuade himself that the distressed cry hadn't come from his mother; however Brian's face dropped instantly, as the only response to his question was a reiterated, stronger sob.

Hesitantly bringing his left hand to his mother's right shoulder, Brian watched the tears collect once again in her eyes, her upper body continually wracked with vicious heaves, as she allowed herself to weep uncontrollably. He felt her shoulder tense under his small fingers, as the volume and distress of her tears grew into anguished howls.

"I'm sorry, Ma… I'm sorry… I dunno what to do…" Brian knelt carefully on the edge of the bed, and leant closer to wrap his right arm across Michaela's chest. Slowly, he pressed his head closer to hers, until his chin came to rest lightly on her right shoulder.

Still she cried…

Michaela was numb to the physical contact; numb to the sounds and cues around her; lost completely in her chaotic ordeal. She could not hear the depths of her own sobs, nor feel the tears that cooled her heated cheeks. She had been consumed in a moment of complete depersonalization; her mind consoled by the comfort of the item she kept seized firmly to her chest.

She could hear the doctor's livid voice replaying the words over and over in her head, and with each repetition, Michaela gripped the leather object tighter and tighter. _No… No, you've gone too far… you're risking everything… you've no choice now, Michaela… _Her voice continued as it had done in the past, a bantering back and forth between two opinions, almost distinct personalities, arguing her very fate between themselves. _If I have this baby… my family, my Father's reputation… will all be disgraced…_

_Michaela, there is no 'if' now; if you're discovered once again trying to abort this pregnancy… you'll be arrested; worse, you'll lose everything you've struggled for… you'll have your license revoked… you'll be stripped of that which you worked so hard for…_

_But… I'll let my family down… my Father… he would be so ashamed… I just want my life back… please…_

_This is your life now, Michaela… Think how ashamed your Father would be if he could see what a disaster you've made of the privileges he bestowed upon you… he would be more ashamed to see you disbarred, Michaela._

_That is the ultimate failing._

Michaela looked down once again at the black bag pressed against her upper body. For as long as she had that object, she kept with her the assurance that she was still a doctor. That, this final piece of identity could not be taken from her; that this one, remaining possession would be protected; guarded with her very life if need be. That nothing else mattered now.

"Please, Ma… have a nap…" Brian removed his chin from her shoulder, and pulled back to see the tears which continued to build silently in her eyes. As he ran his fingertips softly against her shoulder and upper arm, Brian rose to his feet, relieved at least that she'd ceased her pained wailing.

"Ma… rest for a bit…" He repeated, his lips quivering slightly when she again showed no indication of having heard his voice. Reaching forwards, Brian thought it sensible to take the bag from her grasp, however was unprepared for the resistance he received from his persuasive tugging.

"No… No!" Michaela quickly overpowered the child. The force of her retaliation threw him off-balance and sent him sinking to the floor with a stunned gasp.

Brian's breathing was labored, however the little boy remained perfectly still as he watched his mother stare without recognition down at his crumpled form. Pulling himself into a crouched position, he thought it best to stay still for awhile longer.

Michaela felt every muscle within her tense at the intrusive action, her aggressive response one she considered justified by the significance of what was being threatened. Her mind was reeling; her emotional fragility having augmented her protectiveness into mortal dread. Looking suspiciously back over her shoulder, as she turned, Michaela drew her knees up onto the bed, arriving on all fours to once again check that the perceived threat was eliminated. Being sufficiently satisfied at the sight of the figure frozen on the floor at a safe distance from her, Michaela allowed her guard to drop, and began an even crawl to the head of the bed, pausing every few steps to drag the medical bag along in her right hand.

Arriving at the top of the bed, she tucked the medical bag close to her chest again, quickly checking one final time that the form on the floor several yards away had remained motionless, and was no longer a threat. Reassured yet again, Michaela awkwardly rolled onto her side, her knees drawing as far as physically possible up towards her chest, her arms snuggly wrapped around the black bag, which was still tightly cradled against her chest.

Hearing nothing aside from her effortful breathing, Michaela cautiously dropped her head to the large pillows, the sound of the air rushing in and out from her lungs slowly decreasing, as her eyes dropped closed; sleep coming as a welcome refuge.

Brian felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, not daring to move a muscle until he was confident his mother really was asleep. Waiting for a solid minute or two, he kept his body low against the floor, as he crawled across the room towards the elaborately embroidered settee. Again checking that Michaela remained unaware of his movements, the petrified child slid his body up into the padded piece of furniture, his tearful eyes gazing out through the large window into the darkening evening sky.

**X.O.X**

"I still can't believe you did that…" Colleen ran her hand gingerly down the back of Sully's newly cut hair, shaking her head with a small smile.

"Thought it was… important… why… don't ya like it?" Sully looked between Matthew and Colleen both seated on his right, the trip thus far having remained relatively silent.

"Course… reckon it makes ya look more handsome," Colleen rolled her eyes with a half-hearted chuckle, but quickly looked away out of self-conscious embarrassment.

"Why, thank-you, Miss Cooper…" Sully played on the girl's discomfort, hearing Matthew clear his throat, on the other side of Colleen, obviously unimpressed by their antics.

"Ain't it more appropriate we start worryin' about what's gonna happen once we get to Boston… how we gonna find Dr. Mike and Brian? I mean… what if that ain't even where they've gone… we're only guessin'…" Matthew began destructively scratching a small dirt stain from the knee of his trousers.

"Matthew… there's nothin' we can do about that until we get there… but… where else would Michaela have gone? I know it's not ideal, but what choice do we have?" Sully turned his attention to the young man, slightly frustrated that Matthew was insisting they discuss an issue that was for the most part, unsolvable, however able to look past that to the boy's deep concern.

"Yeah… I dunno… just seems… wrong, somehow… us jokin'… foolin' around… forget it…" He dismissed himself with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Sorry, Matthew… you're right… maybe it's all my fault… maybe I shoulda said somethin' sooner… maybe we shoulda come found ya before she…" Colleen looked initially at her brother, before turning back towards Sully for her final statement.

"Wouldn't a done any good, Colleen… you wouldn't a found me… and doubt Michaela woulda listened to anything I had to say anyway… even if I had known. Ain't so sure I coulda stopped her leavin' like this," Sully unexpectedly locked eyes with Matthew, the young man finishing his sentence.

"You coulda tried… we all coulda… we shoulda… even if she still wanted to do this… we coulda at least all gone together… as a family… shouldn't a had to take off like this on her own… that ain't fair…" Matthew reflected, Colleen interrupting him quickly.

"What ain't fair is her takin' Brian like that… gonna be so scary for him… he ain't gonna know what's happenin'. Don't even know about Dr. Mike bein' pregnant," Colleen folded her arms tightly across her chest, her voice unwavering and stern.

"Colleen, you can't say that… she probably only took him coz she knew he'd a been real upset her just leavin'… and if they're in Boston… well, Dr. Mike's family are there… Brian'll be fine…" Matthew reasoned, still not entirely convinced that trying to interfere with Michaela's wishes was the right decision.

"Nah, Matthew… no way Michaela'd go to them… not like this… be stayin' as far away as she could from them… Boston's a big place, ain't likely she's gonna run into anyone she knows… but I do think you're right about her takin' Brian… she woulda done it for the right reasons…" Sully lowered his voice as he spoke, aware of the middle-aged man sitting opposite them.

"That'd be a first…" Colleen interjected cynically; both Matthew and Sully turning in towards her, about to defend Michaela's actions.

"Look… ain't any point us stewin' over this, ain't gonna change nothin'… but… suppose we do find 'em… what exactly you gonna say to her?" Matthew looked directly across at Sully, almost challenging him to provide an immediate solution.

"I… don't know… will worry about that when the time comes…" Sully unconsciously brought his left hand to his cool, bare neck, feeling the hairs on his skin rise, unaccustomed to being exposed to the air.

**X.O.X**

Michaela awoke to a dull throbbing in both her forearms. Blearily opening her eyes, she moved her hands as she looked down to see them secured firmly to the leather bag, the metal edging having dug into her flesh. Initially unfamiliar with her surroundings, Michaela had forgotten she'd fallen asleep with the large object tucked against her, until her sudden movement caused the bag to roll and slip from the bed onto the rug below with a thud.

Brian, his head nestled in his crossed arms, stirred slightly at the sound. Still nervous, following his mother's earlier outburst, he slowly raised his head, and discreetly watched the scene unfold before him.

Being jolted slightly from her sleepy state, Michaela took several moments to process the sequence of events which had just occurred. She stared blankly down at the floor, trying to make sense of the several items which now protruded into view. The impact had caused the clasp on the top of the bag to open, and the bell of her stethoscope, along with several bottles of medicine had worked their way out during the fall.

Reaching down to retrieve the bag, as well as the loose objects, Michaela pulled them awkwardly up onto the bed, rolling over onto her back as she settled the handful of items and bag by her right side.

In that mere heartbeat; no longer than a fragment of a moment, Michaela felt time freeze around her. It was as if nothing existed outside the physical limits of her own body; that her rational mind, her heart, and her soul were pulled simultaneously towards one minute, unimaginably small area of her lower abdomen. Just below and to the right of her belly button, Michaela felt the feather-light sensation against the inside of her skin. Her breath held unconsciously in her throat, her right hand moved instinctively to the spot, as she felt the fine stroking movement return, ever-so-slightly further down that time.

Michaela sharply pulled her hand away immediately after processing the experience. She could feel her blood go cold as grim reality dawned on her. _Oh, please… no… it can't be… not yet… _Michaela forced her eyes closed, as she desperately attempted to convince herself that maybe she was having another nightmare. Yes; that was it; she was dreaming; this wasn't really happening.

"Ma?" Brian leant forwards on the chair, having witnessed Michaela's frantic movements moments earlier.

"No… no, no, no…." Michaela released the force with which her eyes were drawn closed, however still did not dare to open them yet. Another few moments… there was still hope that this wasn't really happening.

Keeping all of her attention consumed in the darkness behind her eyelids, Michaela couldn't fail to detect the physical sensation once again.

"Stop!" She opened her eyes, as she gripped her arms tightly around her stomach. Pulling herself into a sitting position, Michaela realized the darkness was worse. The darkness only amplified the disturbing movements she had perceived.

Her sound mind came quickly to the surface, with a physiological explanation; _There, Michaela… now that child is actually moving. Just under your arms, Michaela… that baby's heart is beating… its body is growing… arms and legs…_

"I…" Michaela removed her arms from her middle; just as quickly as she'd put them there. She couldn't ignore the scientific rationale just presented, and almost welcomed the overwhelming nausea that consumed her instantaneously. "… going to…" She pulled herself up from the bed, oblivious to the alarmed expression plastered on the young boy's face, as she ran into the bathroom, the contents of her stomach quickly emptying into the basin to the right of the door.

"Ma!" Came the squealed exclamation from across the room. The small child ran quickly to his mother's side, his eyes large and scared as he watched her continue to dry-retch for several minutes.

"Go… away… leave me… alone…" Michaela waved frantically at the boy's presence, as she struggled to withstand the violent hauling of her upper body.

"It's all right, Ma… here…" Brian carefully reached for her long tresses of hair, and pulled them over her shoulder. Michaela's attention was consumed in futile attempts to catch her breath between purges.

The young boy waited vigilantly by his mother's side until she lacked both the physical energy, and emotional inclination to dry-retch any longer. Michaela's arms rested on the edge of the basin, her face pale, her eyes wet with effort.

"Is it the baby makin' ya sick, Ma?" Brian delicately arranged her hair over her back, trying his best to be thoughtful and understanding, despite the contradictory and frightening displays he was witnessing.

"Be quiet…" Her voice was raw and low. Michaela kept her attention focused on the delicately hand-painted edgings of the fine-china basin.

"How about a glass a water, Ma?" Brian's voice found a renewed hopefulness, as he quickly dashed back into the room and filled a small glass.

"No…" Michaela's response was equally dull and uninflected. Not having heard her negative reply, the small boy hurried back into the bathroom, pushing against her side, proffering the glass to her with a considerate smile.

"I said, no!" Michaela turned immediately around, unaware that the child had moved so close against her, so as inadvertently managing to knock him harshly to the ground. A small gasp was emitted from his mouth, as the glass hurtled down to the tiled floor, smashing upon impact.

"See… now look what you've done! You silly child! Just clean that up… this minute!" Michaela flew into an irrational rage, rushing back out of the room to begin a mindless circling of the large area.

"S-sorry… I'm sorry…" Brian remained huddled on the floor beside the bathtub; uninhibited tears streaming down his face, having never heard his mother yell like that in his life.

Michaela secured her hands to her hips, beginning her second lap of the confined space. "Why did I even bring you… nothing but trouble… foolish, wasn't I… too busy worrying about you… worried about how upset you'd be… that I didn't want to cause you more pain," Michaela repositioned her hands, and sat down on the edge of the settee, her behavior still wildly unpredictable and out of her own control.

"Please, Ma… said I was sorry… I… I'll clean it up…" Brian's choked voice could just be heard as it radiated through to the bedroom.

"What am I going to do… I've left it too late, now… I…" Michaela turned her attention down to the busy street below, seeing the hoards of finely dressed individuals stroll along the footpath.

Brian sniffed several times, trying to stop himself form crying, as he began picking up the fragments of broken glass. After a minute or so, he'd finished cleaning the glass and spilt water, dropping the slivers into the bin next to the basin.

He remained in the doorway, his small hands clutched to the doorframe for several minutes, as he watched the distress and torment play across his mother's face. He took several steps back into the main room, this time, more careful to keep a safe proximity from his mother's side.

"Ma, I'm sorry ya brought me… I'm sorry… wish I'd never seen ya leavin'… Wish my real Ma hadn't died… then you wouldn't a got stuck with us…" His voice crackled with emotion, however his words were sincere.

"I'm sorry, too…" Michaela turned, as if seeing him for the first time. There was a resolve in her eyes; a distance.

"Sorry, ya have to worry 'bout me all the time…" He heard the bitterness in her voice, and the sharpness of her harsh gaze. Arriving less than two feet from the door, Brian felt his chin begin to tremble. He quickly realized that it was due to the fact that he now felt so dreadfully afraid of his mother.

"Don't you think I feel the same way… If it weren't for that… I wouldn't be in this mess… if it weren't for you…" Michaela tore her eyes from the child's gutted form, realizing he would never understand the significance of the sentence that had begun to pass from her lips.

"I hate you," he whispered, meaning it all the more strongly than he had two years earlier. He meant it to hurt; he meant it in defense, as he slipped out through the large wooden door and into the long corridor.

Michaela saw the devastated look of betrayal cross the boy's face as he made his way in silence from the room, the gentle clicking of the lock in the door being the final sound heard. Brian's heartbroken expression lingered in Michaela's mind, being of more profound influence than words alone.

She felt her hands clutch the wooden arm of the settee, her gaze restless; between the closed door and the fading daylight through the window.

_What are you doing? Why are you here, Michaela?_

Her jaw dropped with an audible sigh, unable in that moment to process with any meaning, the events of the previous few hours. Words, instead, were perceived as nothing more than emotion. Michaela allowed herself to take a further step into the turmoil building within her, realizing that the underlying emotion was not merely anger. Yes, she was angry; angry at the Doctor, angry at the circumstance that had caused this nightmare, but most of all she was angry at herself. She'd failed herself as a doctor, caused unnecessary delay, and to that end, brought this entire situation on herself.

Glancing back across at the closed door, Michaela repeated the boy's departing words to herself, and immediately arrived at a new conclusion; she'd failed that child as a mother. Michaela felt her mind drift through other significant individuals in her life; Colleen… Matthew… Sully… she'd failed them all. As she reflected upon recent events, she realized she'd driven them all away; Sully… the children… the town… and now Brian. Michaela rose to her feet, and aimlessly began to pace towards the bed, all the while, her mind continued to challenge itself. _Why are you pushing people away? They're trying to help you… they care about you… Being on your own is not going to help one bit…_

"Shut up! I don't care… I don't…" She felt her weight collapse against the mattress, beyond tears by this stage. It was then that she noticed it; still upturned in the middle of the bed from when she'd retrieved it from the floor; her medical bag.

"What's the point…" Michaela murmured, as her hands moved automatically to roughly toss various items back into the bag. Her right hand had locked onto her stethoscope once again, when she became aware of the gentle movement return to her lower abdomen.

"It's just nerves… tension… ignore it…" Michaela chastised herself, as her hands gripped tighter around the black rubber tubing of the instrument. But she couldn't fool herself; her scientific conviction was too powerful, and, as hard as she fought to tempt herself otherwise, the physician in her persuaded back more strongly.

"Please… make it stop… I can't…" Her eyes dropped closed, as she tightened her grip around the clasped stethoscope in her right hand. "Please," she whispered, focusing all of her attention on the object in her grasp, desperate to block out the delicate reminder of life within her.

Again, Michaela's emotions shifted, and pleading gave in to rage, as she sent the stethoscope hurtling back across the room behind her. It landed softly against the rug. She turned back to the several items still rested against the elaborate quilt; a neatly rolled up bandage, a pair of tweezers, and a filled bottle of Laudanum. Her eyes moved over the initial two items quickly; however her attention was held by the third. Brushing her fingers lightly over the faded markings on the small glass bottle, Michaela focused her efforts on reading one letter after the other, in a fraught attempt to distract herself from the nausea which continued to build in her stomach.

"Maybe, just…" her right hand gripped the bottle harder, as her mind moved at an indescribable speed through random sights, sounds and sensations of the last five months. Without logical explanation, Michaela magnified the harmless tingling against her skin into a discomfort, which soon spiraled uncontrollably into a burning pain. She had to make it stop.

She heard the tiny rush of air as she removed the cork stopper from the bottle, Michaela knew she could make it stop; at least for awhile. She mechanically brought the small tip of the bottle to her lips, awaiting the soothing bitterness of the liquid as it invaded her mouth. Tipping the bottle slightly, Michaela felt her awareness sharply aroused by the nocuous substance she swallowed.

Drawing a calming breath, Michaela immediately took another sip, the bottle still held tightly in her fingers, as she settled herself back against the pillows.

_I can still feel it… make it stop… please, make it go away…_

Michaela rolled onto her left side, facing away from the door, as she brought the bottle to her mouth a third time, her left hand pressed harshly against her firm stomach.

She felt lucidity begin to slip away from her after several minutes, slowly, the environment blurred until she could barely remember why she held the object in her hand. Her mind had narrowed, at the exclusion of all else, to two realities; the unpredictable fluttering under her left hand, and the coolness of the bottle in her right.

Her eyes watched mesmerized, as the clear liquid lapped against the walls of the bottle it was surrounded by, teasing her, tempting her with the comfort it offered.

_Just one more…_ Michaela heard her mind coax; relishing in the distraction which was afforded by the strong tasting drug as it seeped to the back of her throat. She swallowed, feeling more liquid enter her mouth, and repeated the action once again. Michaela felt her head grow heavy, and pulled the bottle away, no longer able to sense the fluid pass by her lips. Letting it fall empty against the quilt, she rolled over onto her back, welcoming the overpowering sedation as it engulfed her consciousness.

**X.O.X**

Brian kicked his feet against the edge of the stairs, having descended and ascended the two flights of stairs to the point of exhaustion. Dropping down to the top step, the boy wiped the tears from his eyes with the backs of his hands, worried that he might be seen.

His anger at his mother's blame had quickly eroded into guilt, the moment he'd run out into the hallway, and for the past ten minutes or so, he tried to concentrate on the events most prominent in his mind.

Maybe it was his fault; after all, he'd been spying on her. He'd told his sister about Michaela's unexplained weight gain, and that's what had prompted Michaela's rapid departure. Then again, on the train… he'd tried to tell her about the baby's heartbeat, which had sent her running out into the corridor in tears; again… all his fault.

His black polished shoes scuffed against the carpeted step harder and harder, as he felt his toes stub against the hard leather.

"It's all my fault… I did it… I caused it. If Ma hadn't a died… none a this woulda happened… I wouldn't be here… I wouldn't a broken the glass… and made Dr. Mike upset… I wouldn't a wrecked everything…" He banged his right foot against the step a final time, digging his hands deeper into the pockets of his newly purchased trousers.

"Shouldn't a said I hated her…" He frowned, as he reflected on his emotive words. The young boy drew a comforting breath, as he pulled his hands from his pockets and headed back along the corridor to their room; with the intention of apologizing for his nasty remark.

His small hand gripped the gold-plated door handle, and gently pushed it down to allow the heavy door to open into the room. "Ma…?" He whispered tentatively, as he stepped inside, and turned to close the door before worrying about locating her.

"Ma… wanted to say I was sorry…" Brian voiced nervously, as he noticed Michaela on the bed across the room. "Wouldn't blame ya if ya real mad at me… after what I said… ya gonna punish…" He paused, seeing her eyes lightly closed.

"Sorry…" he muttered, his voice hushed, as he arrived by the edge of the bed, to confirm that she was indeed resting.

Brian tilted his head into a soft, warm smile, as he very delicately climbed onto the edge of the bed, taking every precaution so as to not disturb her. He carefully moved the black leather bag from the space between them, placing it down on the floor to the left side of the bed. It was then that he saw the small bottle several inches from her right hand. Picking it up and trying to read the label, Brian's worry was reignited. "Ma? Are ya sick, Ma? How come ya takin' medicine?" He dropped the empty bottle back to the bed, tenderly reaching to take her hand.

"Couldn't the doctor make ya better, Ma?" He moved his left hand to brush back the hair from her forehead. Although the contact was extremely gentle, Brian saw his mother's eyes flutter several times in response. "Sorry… didn't mean to wake ya…" He frowned, something about the color of her face and eyes not seeming usual. It was then that he saw her mouth move. Still on his knees, the young boy bent forwards to try to hear her words.

"Don't tell, Becca… promise me you won't tell Mother…" Her voice was childlike and disjointed, Brian barely understanding the words, before her eyes fell closed once again.

"Ma…? Ma… it's me… it's Brian…" He squeezed her right hand slightly harder, his alarm intensifying as her eyes remained closed.

"Becca, please… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… Please don't tell…" Michaela's voice was breathy and weak, Brian just managing to hear her mumbled response.

"Ma? Ma! Ma… wake up, Ma… ya gotta wake up! Please, Ma…!" His breathing was quick and forced in his throat, as he shook her right arm more violently.

"Ma… please…" He pulled himself back off the bed, waiting for several seconds in hope of a movement or verbal response. None came.

"I… I'll get help, Ma… I'll… I'll get a doctor…" Brian called, his small voice conveying the desperation and dread that was only growing inside his frail young mind and body.

"Please, Ma… please be all right…" He turned back towards the closed door, barely managing to see his way out into the hallway through the tears which clouded his vision.

_She has to be all right… she has to._


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter 66**

The young boy flew down the flights of stairs, taking two at a time, until he arrived in the marbled foyer. He looked around, eyes darting between groups of guests and bellhops, before seeing the older man, his hair graying at the temples, standing behind the counter to Brian's right.

"Ya gotta help me! My Ma… she… she's sick… she won't wake up…" The small child ignored the surprised glances he was receiving from the people around him, who were reacting more to his loud manner, than to the content of his words.

"What was that, son?" The man turned his attention more sincerely to the child by that stage, as the blond-haired boy clutched to the high countertop desperately.

"Please… ya gotta get a doctor or somethin'… my Ma's sick…" He felt his voice rise in his throat, although relieved when the man summoned two nearby bellhops.

"Which room are you in, son?" The manager, whose nametag identified him as 'Barnard', rested his right hand warmly on the panic-stricken boy's shoulder.

"I… I… can't remember… but I can show ya…" Brian stumbled on his words, and instead turned back to head towards the stairs, still noticeably out of breath.

"All right…" Barnard frowned, watching the boy take a deep breath and break out into a determined run.

"Hold up, little guy… we ain't all as young as you…" He chuckled lightly, still somewhat skeptical as to the boy's outburst.

"But ya gotta help her… come on… come on…" Brian turned back, his face deep red and petrified.

"We're right behind you… go on…" Barnard gestured to the two, younger bellhops to match the child's pace, although still moving as fast as possible up the stairs after the group.

**X.O.X**

"Ma'am…? Ma'am…? He's right… summon the Doctor at once…" Barnard nodded to the young, brown-haired bellhop, who immediately fled the room.

"How long has she been like this, son?" The manager remained crouched by the right side of the bed, having tried unsuccessfully to rouse the unconscious woman in front of him.

"I dunno… we had a fight. I was real mean to her. Then I… came back… and she was all sleepy… and told me not to tell… and then wouldn't… wouldn't wake up… just like before…" His chin quivered, as he squeezed Michaela's right hand more firmly. His eyes lowered to his hands, noticing the clear, empty bottle once again.

"What have you there, son?" Barnard frowned, although having clearly seen the object, he held out his hand to the boy.

"It's medicine… reckon Ma's sick… that's why she was seein' the Doctor…" Brian naively handed him the bottle, the older man studying the item for several moments.

"Laudanum… why would your mother have this, son?" He shook his head, and glanced back up at the other bellhop for an opinion.

"I dunno… it's what makes me think she's sick… she was real upset after we saw the doctor before… first I thought somethin' was wrong with the baby… but maybe it's…" Brian looked up when he heard the older man's soft, comforting voice.

"Your mother's expecting?" He raised an eyebrow of intensified concern to the bellhop, the younger, blond-haired man now departing from the room to speed up the doctor's call.

"Yeah… don't think she's happy about it though… coz she's been cryin' and actin' real strange, and…" Brian glanced back around the room, seeing the glistening of metal against the far wall.

"What?" Barnard watched as the small boy crawled to the edge of the bed, slipped down and delicately retrieved the black object from the floor.

"Ma's stethoscope… what ya listen to someone's heart with…" He protectively carried the object back and repositioned himself on Michaela's right side.

"Oh… so it is your mother who is the lady doctor… I suppose that explains the medicine… but you'd think she would have known better than to take something like that… obviously hasn't agreed with her…" He shook his head, and tentatively reached a hand forward to ensure the woman was still breathing.

"Maybe ya ain't meant to take it if ya havin' a baby?" Brian reasoned, suddenly beginning to feel very alone, in what was unquestionably an extremely large city.

"Maybe…" Barnard murmured under his breath, however beginning to suspect a far sinister explanation.

"Doctor's just coming, Mr. Thompson…" The brown-haired bellhop, slightly out of breath from his frantic running up and down the stairs, arrived back into the room. The speed of his entrance drew both his manager's and Brian's attention.

"Thank-you, Arthur…" Barnard nodded politely, realizing the seriousness of the moment, and respectfully gesturing for both young men to wait in the hallway.

"How… how come she won't wake up…? Is… the medicine makin' her too sleepy?" Brian swallowed as his sheer panic began to abate somewhat.

"I believe so, son… but don't you worry… the… ah… here…" Barnard looked up as the hotel doctor entered the room, and proceeded to conduct an initial examination.

"Sorry to send for you at the end of the day like this… the lady's son here, just informed us of the situation…" Barnard rose to his feet and stepped away from the bed.

"Ma'am… can you hear me…? Son, was your mother ill at all?" The middle-aged physician completed the rushed exam, checking Michaela's pupil reactions, pulse and breathing.

"N-no… I dunno… she was seein' a doctor… but she was sick before… she didn't say nothin' though…" Brian answered the question honestly, the two men moving into a hushed whisper beside the bed.

"She's… ah… in a _delicate_ condition, too…" Barnard cleared his throat uncomfortably, as the physician looked down at the empty bottle the hotel manager still held in his right hand.

"You found that… where'd she get that?" The Doctor shook his head, although quickly dismissed the uncertainty, realizing that they needed to organize hospital transportation.

"What's gonna happen, sir?" Brian chewed lightly on his lower lip, knowing he had to be brave; that he had to look after his mother regardless of how scared he felt.

"Now, don't you worry, there. We're just going to take your mother to the hospital… until she wakes up… All right?" The physician turned his attention back to the manager, who'd called the bellhops back into the room.

"One of you will need to carry her downstairs... Massachusetts General is the closest from here…" He dictated. Brian slid across the bed, as the young blond-haired bellhop carefully picked Michaela up and all three men made there way towards the door.

"Come along, there…" Barnard turned back to the boy, who continued scanning the room in a slightly preoccupied fashion.

"Wait… I… need…" Brian looked around the room until he spied Michaela's medical bag, still on the floor beside the bed from when he'd come in and found her earlier. "Here… can't go nowhere without this…" He nodded proudly, remembering the utter desperation with which Michaela had clung to the object upon their return that afternoon.

"Come along, then…" Barnard shook his head, with a small smile at the child's thoughtfulness; having no comprehension of the significance of the boy's perception. "Now… is there anyone we can contact for you…? Where's your family?" The pair left the room and proceeded steadily behind the doctor and bellhops as they all began a careful descent down the first flight of stairs.

"Well… ah… Ma said… ah… um… can you send my brother a wire? He'll know what to do…" Brian nodded with more conviction, Matthew would be able to take care of matters.

"Of course… what's his name… and where is he?" Barnard reached into his breast pocket for the small notepad and pencil he always carried.

"Matthew… Matthew Cooper… and we're from Colorado Springs… that's in Colorado…" Brian looked anxiously between the group several yards ahead of them, keeping Michaela's medical bag locked firmly in his right hand.

"Right… and what do you think I should say?" Barnard had a fair idea of what he was planning to say, however, thought it important the young boy feel he was keeping as much control over the situation as possible.

"Ah… tell him… Ma's sick… and that I really… really need him here… and that… Ma's been really upset… and… and…" Brian lowered his voice, the manager straining to catch the boy's final uttered words, "and… I'm scared…" The child's shoulders dropped an inch, as they arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

"Now you just go with your mother… and… what's your name, son?" Barnard struggled to keep the boy's attention, as he was determined to not let Michaela slip too far away from him.

"Brian Cooper, mister… ah…" He alternated his glance between the older man, and the group carefully lifting Michaela into the awaiting buggy.

"Right… I'll… send this right out… and you can call me Barney…" The manager reassured, making his way immediately to the telegraph operator's room by the reception counter.

"Thanks, Barney," Brian brought his right hand up into a half-hearted, yet sincere wave, as he pulled himself into the buggy. Glancing at the young bellhop, who awkwardly kept the woman secured against him, Brian's eyes darted from his mother's still unresponsive form, to the physician sitting opposite them.

"She gonna wake up once we get to the hospital, Doctor?" Brian frowned, well-intentioned possessiveness creeping into his voice, as the horses were moved into a quick trot.

"Yes, son… if all she has taken is this one bottle… will only be an hour or so… son… do you have any idea… where your mother would have obtained this? She hasn't told you of any illness or anything?" Brian blinked several times, not quite understanding the physician's question; it seemed perfectly reasonable for his mother to carry various medicines and instruments around with her.

"She… she always has stuff…" He slowly moved his head downwards towards the black bag clutched in his arms, suddenly realizing he hadn't informed this unfamiliar man of what he considered an obvious assumption, "she's a doctor…" Brian shrugged, not understanding the ramifications of the less-than-subtle look of disbelief which crossed the physician's face.

"I… see…" He turned back in the direction they were traveling, more to conceal his expression of disgusted horror from the small boy.

"But everything's gonna be fine, ain't it?" Brian reiterated, running his right hand down Michaela's arm tenderly.

"Your mother will wake up in an hour or so, son… you don't need to worry about that… as for everything being fine… that's another matter entirely…" He rested his left arm on the edge of the buggy, beginning to consider the odds of having to admit an expectant female, who was reportedly a physician, with a suspected attempted suicide. This was going to draw a crowd at the very least. Glancing back momentarily to the peaceful calmness of the unconscious woman's face; he tried to consider possible explanations; had she misread the bottle…? Had she a self-diagnosed condition…? However none of these justifications excused her actions. As a physician, if indeed the child was to be believed, this woman should have known better than to have consumed any such substances.

**X.O.X**

"I told ya, Myra… don't mind either way…" Horace piled the remaining day's worth of scribbled notes into an orderly pile, before glancing around the office ensuring everything was neatly put away for the end of business.

"I know, but ain't ya even considered it?" Myra ran her right hand tenderly over her still non-existent stomach, as she looked up from the chair by the counter, hoping for an interested response.

"No… just be happy knowin' it's healthy… and you're safe… been more nervous 'bout you than anything… what with you bein' so sick, and havin' the operation…" Horace crossed the room and placed his large hands delicately over his wife's shoulders.

"Aww, Horace, why didn't ya say somethin'? Here's me thinkin' ya just weren't interested… why didn't ya tell me you were scared?" Myra brought her hands to rest over the top of her husband's, her neck extended upwards, so as to make eye contact with him.

"Thought… thought you'd be worried… and just didn't see the point…" Horace deflected his gaze, as Myra squeezed his hands reassuringly.

"Now don't you go worrin' 'bout that… Dr. Mike…" Myra trailed off for a moment, being reminded of the disturbing information she'd gained only that morning, "Dr. Mike said that ain't gonna be a problem with the baby… so we just gotta think positive… Please, Horace… I'm real excited 'bout this… wanted you to be too… please don't go worryin' 'bout stuff we don't need to…" Myra pleaded with a consoling smile, Horace about to suggest they treat themselves to supper at Grace's when he heard the familiar tapping of Morse code behind him.

"Just a minute, honey… just gotta…" He searched the previously immaculate desk for a scrap of paper, struggling to retain the pre-deciphered words, as Myra handed him a pencil with an understanding smile.

Myra watched Horace's face twitch as he finished recording the message, his eyes narrowing, and mouth drawing into alarmed confusion.

"Somethin' the matter?" Myra waited until he'd wired an acknowledgement of receipt, before voicing her concern.

"Doctor…" Horace widened his eyes immediately, realizing he could not divulge the contents of the message. Instead, he instinctively folded the small slip of paper and rested the pencil over it.

"Doctor what? Horace...?" Myra frowned, hating the way her husband took his work so seriously.

"I'm sorry, Myra… took an oath, and I'm keepin' with it… just don't quite know what to do about it right about now…" He idly fidgeted with the thin pencil, and scratched the sideburn on the left of his face, as he repeated the contents of the wire over and over in his mind.

"Horace, sounds serious…" Myra rose from her chair, as she considered the single word her husband had let slip. "Doctor… Doctor Mike? What about Dr. Mike? If there's something wrong, Horace… ya gotta tell me, please…" Myra clutched his arm, again reminded of the conversation between herself, Dorothy and Ingrid.

"No, Myra… I can't…" He stood from the desk, and began pacing for several moments. An idea coming to his head after a minute or so, Horace located the small brown book in the top draw of his desk, in which he kept a record of names and addresses.

"Well… oh, please… Horace… I promise, I mean, really promise I won't say nothin'… but if there's something wrong with Dr. Mike… ya gotta do something… she…" Myra felt her jaw drop, equally aware that the physician's pregnancy was not a topic for general discussion, and was to be kept to the womenfolk of the town.

"Now, there ain't that much I can do… what with Sully and the kids gone… except…" Horace managed to locate the information he'd been searching for in his brown book. He perched back at the desk, and began to send another wire.

"Except, what? Horace… Horace what are ya doin'?" Myra frowned, turning quickly to the brown book on the counter, and spied the name and address of which Horace had located. "Horace… wait, don't…" Myra ran back to his side, and locked her hands tightly around his arm in protest.

"Just a minute, Myra…" He fought the physical distraction, until he'd finished the telegram he'd been sending.

"Horace… please tell me you didn't…" Myra cringed as she turned back to the empty office, her hands going to her forehead in panic. "Look, ya don't gotta _tell_ me, exactly… but if there's somethin' wrong with Dr. Mike… please tell me you didn't go wirin' her mother…" Myra reached for the open brown book, and gestured to the relevant name.

"What else was I meant to do, honey… got a telegram from a hotel in Boston… said Dr. Mike's taken ill… little Brian's all alone… was wantin' Matthew to come take care a stuff…" Horace shook his head, defensive of the accusing tone in his wife's voice.

"Oh, Horace… just… I wish ya hadn't a done that… that is gonna… be a disaster… ain't there some way you can stop it… go on… take it back… cancel it… whatever… Dr. Mike's mother knowin' she's in Boston is gonna just make everything worse…" Myra clasped her hands desperately around her waist, as she softened her voice slightly.

"Didn't have no choice, honey… the hotel said she'd been taken to hospital… can't have little Brian all there by himself… gonna take days for Sully and the kids to get there… What's she doin' in Boston, anyway… told me she was goin' to Denver…" Horace frowned, as he skimmed his eyes back over the small piece of paper in front of him.

"Aww, this is horrible… poor little Brian… alone in that big, scary place… did… um… did it say what's wrong with Dr. Mike…?" Myra enquired very tentatively, afraid that Horace would clam up again.

"N-no… just said she'd been taken to hospital…" He paused, and his voice acquired a very serious tone. "Now, Myra… you have to promise you ain't gonna repeat that… coz ain't no-one meant to know but me… Promise me, now…" Horace raised his right eyebrow nervously.

"Don't be silly, Horace, of course I promise… Just wish there was somethin' we could do…" Myra glanced around the tidy office, feeling helpless.

"Well, that's why I wired her mother… if she's there, then at least there's someone lookin' out for Brian… until Sully and… hey… won't they think she's gone to Denver… how… how they gonna know she's in Boston…" Horace shook his head, as he stood from the desk and carefully destroyed the small piece of paper.

"Reckon they… know, Horace… if Dorothy knows then…" Myra pulled her gaze away, empathic concern written across her face. "Horace… ain't there anything you can do to stop Dr. Mike's mother knowin' she's there… please… it's real important…" Myra tilted her head, trying to strengthen the conviction of her words.

"Why you actin' like Dr. Mike's mother knowin' she's in Boston is so dreadful? And if she's ill, surely she'd just wanna help out. There's nothin' else I could do, honey… done all I can. I'll wire the station house in Denver first thing in the mornin', too; so they can let Sully and the kids know the minute they get off the stage…" Horace pushed the chair back under the desk and reached for Myra's shoulder affectionately.

"I… guess you're right… guess ya didn't have much choice… maybe it's a good thing, her bein' ill... maybe…" Myra looked up as Horace interjected sharply, not having realized she'd vocalized her thoughts.

"Now, I don't see how Dr. Mike bein' ill can be a good thing…" He brought his arm further around her back, as he directed her across the room and towards the door.

"No… but maybe this time it is… maybe'll mean she can put this whole nightmare behind her…" Myra finished her thought out loud, not bothered that her husband didn't understand the significance of her words.

"Ain't got any idea what you're talkin' 'bout… but… let's just go get some supper, what do ya say? Not worry about stuff we can't do anythin' about…" Horace patted her shoulder trying to settle her emotional display.

"Yeah… I know you're right… ain't nothin' we can do about any of it out here…" Myra lowered her gaze, as she paused on the porch. Horace secured the door firmly and reached back again for her upper arm, the couple pacing slowly onto the main street in the direction of Grace's.

**X.O.X**

Brian kept his fingers interlocked tightly together, as he sat by his mother's bedside. She'd remained asleep for the duration of their trip, and still lay motionless as the nurse draped the blanket over her sleeping form.

"Sweetie, how about you wait outside… maybe we could get you a nice glass of juice, would you like that?" The young, blond-haired woman rested her hands on her knees, as she smiled down at the child.

"No… I'm all right… rather wait 'til Ma wakes up…" Brian frowned, and turned the corner of his mouth up slightly into a pleading request.

"Well… it's up to the Doctor, sweetheart…" The nurse turned with a sympathetic shrug to the small group of physician's who stood at the end of the bed.

"Doctor Campbell?" The young woman summoned the middle-aged physician's attention quickly. "Did you want me to take the young boy outside… or may he stay?" She queried, knowing it unusual to allow a child to remain in the room during examinations.

"Ah, yes, perhaps you'd best take him… you'll also need to have the patient changed, and… Dr. Edwards?" The admitting physician, Dr. Campbell glanced across to the psychiatrist briefly, checking what measures he wished to be taken.

"Ah… yes, Doctor… I'm not taking any chances… please, take the child outside… best he not be around…" The much older gray-haired psychiatrist cleared his throat awkwardly, as the young nurse obeyed his request and reached for the child's hand.

"Come along…" She squeezed Brian's hand affectionately, seeing the disturbed frown cross his face.

"But I… wanna stay… please?" He looked back up to the older physician who had given the order moments earlier.

"I'm sorry young man… but you'll need to leave whilst we finish our examination… Eva here will let you back in when it's appropriate…" Dr. Edwards voiced gruffly, as he flipped the large file closed in his hands, and gestured to the door behind them.

"But… said I…" Brian remained on the chair, not about to give in that easily.

"Oh, it won't be for long, sweetheart… now just be a good boy for the doctor's… and you'll be able to come back…" Eva pulled lightly on the child's left wrist, as he slowly relented and began to get to his feet.

"Said I'd be good…" Brian dropped his head, his shiny new shoes dragging slightly along the floor as he ambled from the room. As he and the nurse arrived by the large wooden door, Brian turned, and took one lingering glance in Michaela's direction, before the young woman's hand pressed gently on his right shoulder to guide him from the room.

Dr. Edwards turned back to the two doctors beside him; Dr. Campbell, Michaela's admitting doctor who had been summoned by the hotel, and Dr. Hodge, an on-staff obstetrician.

"Is everyone agreed that this incident should be treated as suspicious?" Dr. Edwards raised a single eyebrow, as Dr. Hodge reached forwards to take the file from his proffering hand.

"Well, in my mind, there is no doubt whatsoever… As a physician, she was undoubtedly aware of correct dosages, which in her condition, was out of the question to start with, and… in any case, no competent physician would prescribe such a sedative to any woman had pregnancy been a consideration. Am I not correct in that assumption, Dr. Hodge?" Dr. Campbell finished quickly, as he glanced over for a second opinion.

"Quite with my thinking, Doctor… and… here…" The obstetrician reached to the edge of the bed and retrieved the precisely folded piece of stationery handed to him by the young boy during his mother's admission. "Her son found this in her bag… It might appear that this act of… stupidity… was an attempt to abort the fetus, not an attempt on her own life, per se…" Dr. Hugo Hodge handed the folded letter to the psychiatrist, who scanned it quickly.

"This leaves absolutely no doubt in my mind… I shall be placing her under psychiatric detention… until such time as I deem her health, and that of her unborn child, to be no longer at risk… Dr. Hodge… you arrived before me… is there any indication of trauma to the fetus?" Dr. Edwards spoke crisply, his words emotionless and harsh.

"None from the limited exam I was able to conduct… if you've no pressing issues, gentlemen, I'd like to conduct a pelvic exam, to confirm gestation." Dr. Hodge placed Michaela's chart back on the small table at the end of the bed, before he turned and reached for the door handle as he politely waited for a reply.

"Well, her respiration and pulse seem stable… You'd be best to finish your work before she is conscious, it might make matters easier… and Dr. Edwards… if you need a co-signatory on the detention order, then that's no trouble either…" Dr. Campbell had opened the chart once again, and was satisfied with the maternal health of his patient. He was more than ready to call, what had been a tiresome day, to an end.

"Agreed… I'll have a nurse assist you… and… make the arrangements for the necessary physical restraints… We'll also need to speak with the boy. See if there's any family that can take him in until we've a clearer picture of the situation…" Dr. Edwards nodded, as Dr. Hodge begun to open the door slowly.

"Wait…" He froze, turning and addressing the two physicians who had looked up with intense confusion as a result of his rather uncharacteristic utterance. "… Quinn, was it?" He looked towards Dr. Campbell, who still stood with the open notes in his right hand.

"Ah… yes… Quinn, Michaela… that's about all we know at this stage, why?" James Campbell looked up as the obstetrician tapped his fingers slowly on the round doorknob.

"Dr. Edwards… I hope I am mistaken… the late Josef Quinn… did he not have a daughter who was pursuing a career in medicine?" Hugo frowned, watching as the man opposite him clasped his hands behind his back, pondering the suggestion.

"I… I wasn't especially close… merely worked with him on the odd occasion… before he began to devote more of his time to private practice… with… heavens… yes… it was his youngest daughter… my Lord…" Dr. Edwards would have not remembered had it not been for the insidious gossip surrounding a female physician.

"The thought never even crossed my mind… was over five years ago… I suppose it's… possible…" Dr. Hodge allowed the consideration to linger for several moments, Dr. Campbell, however was far less interested.

"Well… that's all very fascinating, gentlemen… I however… have a family waiting… I'll drop back on rounds tomorrow morning…" He placed the closed chart back on the table with obvious disregard, and arrived by Dr. Hodge's side.

"Ah… yes… well I'd best organize for the necessary procedures…" Dr. Hodge felt the disturbing revelation absorb his attention for several moments, the younger admitting physician slipping quickly past him and disappearing along the corridor.

"I've some paperwork also… Shall we consult in several hours once the patient is conscious?" Dr. Edwards glanced at the unconscious woman in the bed whilst he awaited the reply.

"That's fine… Thank-you for your support, Doctor…" Dr. Hodge turned in the doorway, as Dr. Edwards joined him.

"Quite all right… we shall speak later…" He nodded with a curt smile of professionalism, before he too headed back down along the corridor.

**X.O.X**

"Colleen… Colleen… move your… thank-you…" Matthew awkwardly shifted his sleeping sister's head from his shoulder, having caused his arm to go numb several minutes before.

"Mm-hmm… sorry…" The young girl muttered incoherently before falling back to sleep, Matthew rolling his eyes with a small smile.

"Don't reckon she got much sleep last night… been worried about Brian… reckon deep down more worried about Dr. Mike, though…" Matthew rubbed his sister's right arm softly as he turned his head towards Sully, his voice dropped to a whisper.

"Yeah… doesn't help bein' here either… feels kinda frustratin', don't it?" Sully unbuttoned the gray suit jacket, and repositioned himself on the uncomfortable seat.

"Sure does…" Matthew nodded, pausing before choosing his words carefully, not really sure as to why he was saying them. "Um… Sully… listen, I… ah… yesterday… the stuff I said… I… I mean… I was real angry at ya… know now probably ain't ya fault… just wanted to say…" Matthew was silenced by Sully's raised hand and small smile.

"Ya don't needa… we all been under too much pressure… only natural we're gonna say stuff we don't mean… we're gonna sort it though… once we find ya Ma and Brian… work it all out…" Sully straightened the lapels of his jacket, as his fingers began to nervously fidget with the neatly pressed material.

"Um… how? Ya gonna make her go back to town? What if she won't… what if… she wants to stay in Boston permanent?" Matthew gripped his right knee with his right hand.

"Matthew… can't be thinkin' about all that stuff now… need to find ya Ma, make sure she's all right first… then see what she wants to do…" Sully felt his tongue run along the inside of his mouth; his consoling reply didn't manage to even convince himself.

"Make it sound like it's that easy… maybe stayin' in Boston would be easier… but… I… I don't know if I…" Matthew trailed off, the reality that his family might not be returning to Colorado Springs for quite some time caused him obvious distress.

"Hey… just you stop puttin' the cart before the horse... we gotta find ya Ma and Brian… havin' that baby in Boston's gonna be a lot harder than home… ya Ma'll realize that…" Sully kept his voice even and calm.

"You ain't really expectin' Dr. Mike to go through with it?" Matthew's jaw dropped, as suspicions began to creep back into his mind.

"Ain't any other choice… ya heard Colleen… and ya read that letter…" Sully gestured to the young girl's sleeping form to Matthew's left, before he turned his gaze to the ground, still battling to truly get his head around the situation.

"Yeah, but that's just mean… that ain't right either…" Matthew shook his head vehemently; if it weren't for the danger to Michaela's life, he'd had never agreed to this pursuit.

"None of this is _right_, Matthew… But being unfair and cruel, doesn't change the situation. Just wish I'd… I dunno…" Sully heard the young man's dry voice finish his sentence.

"Stopped this from happening in the first place?" Matthew raised an eyebrow, as he turned his attention to the ground also.

"Was _gonna_ say… realized what was wrong sooner… been over four months, Matthew… ya Ma's been hidin' this for… ages…" Sully sighed audibly, as he considered the significant amount of time that had passed, all the small, seemingly insignificant moments beginning to drop into place; that afternoon whilst the children were fishing, when Michaela had run from him; her fainting spells; her distress after the fall from Flash; the evening of the play. There had been so many times when he should have been suspicious… but once again, he had let her down…

"I know… Colleen knew for a few weeks… before she told me. Swear, Sully… I didn't know Dr. Mike was plannin' somethin' like this… I mean… didn't know she was gonna leave or… try and… didn't know she was this desperate… and even once she'd left… and we found out why… I… can't say I blamed her… I… just didn't realize it was dangerous… wish we'd gone after her sooner…" Matthew moved slightly in his seat, and carefully settled his sleeping sister's head back on his shoulder.

"So do I, Matthew… but we're doin' the best we can…" Sully focused his attention on the concerned distress he could see in the young man's eyes; he was seeing his raw fear, devoid of anger or blame for the first time.

"But what if it's too late? What if we can't find her in time… what if…" Matthew pulled his eyes from his sister, and brought his gaze downwards as his voice caught in his throat.

"Hey. Thinkin' the worst ain't gonna help anything… gotta think for the best… we'll get there Tuesday mornin'… just gotta trust that nothin' gonna happen between now and then…" Sully nodded several times, aware that his action was more to assure himself than the young man to his left.

Matthew remained silent, and Sully returned his absorbed glare back out to the passing countryside, briefly considering the last week. He knew now that Cloud Dancing's words had been significant; that Michaela was in need of his unwavering support now, more than ever. He knew he could give that; he knew without a doubt in his heart that this was what was right; this is what he needed to be doing. He reflected on several phrases that Cloud Dancing had used over the past few months, now for the first time, Sully begun to interpret their meaning: _You will need to be there… to finish what has been started…_

The four days he'd spent alone, he'd been confronted with many painful visions… He had been forced to relive many events that he would have sooner tried to forget. Momentarily chastising himself for such selfishness, Sully folded his hands across his chest and continued his fixated gaze to the open countryside. How dare he expect to put these memories behind him; Michaela couldn't… and he knew that, it was to be expected that she truly never would. Sully was in that moment, reminded again of Cloud Dancing's words: _it is not simply a matter of moving on… it is accepting that a time of grief is necessary… living every day is not about ending this grief… it is about accepting that it is there… trusting that it will improve in time…_

Turning back and locking eyes with Matthew, the pair remained in silence, each consumed by their own thoughts and fears; each wishing that they might have prevented this disaster; each feeling the bond between the other strengthened; through determination, commitment, and unquestionable love.


	67. Chapter 67

**Chapter 67**

Brian looked up from his position on the long, wooden bench that ran against the wall of the corridor. His expression was gloomy and fearful, his head supported in his hands, as his shoes scuffed along the top of the floor.

He heard the large door, which led into Michaela's room, open, and waited until the young, friendly nurse had taken several steps into the hallway, before he tentatively voiced his request.

"Can I see Ma now… please?" He bit his lower lip, his voice quiet and as appealing as he could manage.

"I… I suppose so… the doctor's just finished and she's nicely tucked into bed… so I'm sure he won't mind you sitting with her…" Eva knocked back on the door; her request approved within moments.

"The doctor says that's fine, sweetheart…" The young nurse ushered the boy into the room, and guided him to a seat by his mother's bedside.

"Ma… Ma…?" Brian pulled his chair closer, and reached nervously for her right hand. He expected her to stir, as she would have, had she been merely asleep.

"You need to let her rest awhile longer, son…" Dr Hodge, the obstetrician, continued to write in Michaela's notes for several minutes. His eyes flickered occasionally between the devoted child, and the detailed report in front of him.

"How come she won't wake up? Is she hurt again? Is the baby all right?" Brian frowned, trying to consider every possible alternative, hoping for a reasonable reply.

"Son… your mother took some medicine… very strong medicine, which she shouldn't have taken… and which is making her sleep." The Doctor crossed the room, and rested his hand on the back of the child's chair. "Has your mother done anything like this before? Taken medicine when you don't think she should?" Dr. Hodge was not sure whether he expected any sort of sensible response from the boy; however, was intrigued by the child's openness and genuine concern.

"No, sir… she's been really tired some times though… and she ain't normally like that…" Brian thought carefully, remembering Michaela's short-temper and unusual fatigue.

"Well… now that's perfectly normal when a woman is expecting a baby… Son, we, need to contact your family… Dr. Campbell, the doctor you came in with… said you were staying at the Radisson… Where are you from?" Dr. Hodge knelt down to the boy's level, to appear less threatening.

"Colorado, sir… that's where my brother and sister are… it's really scary all this happening on my own… the man at the hotel said he was gonna wire my brother… but… what if he can't get here?" Brian's chin trembled as he turned back to Michaela, a petrified look of anxiety frozen onto his usually animated face.

"And what about your father…?" Dr. Hodge specified more precisely, his eyes narrowing slightly, as the child shrugged in confusion.

"Don't got a Pa, sir… not yet, anyway… Just me… and Matthew… and Colleen… and Ma…" Brian sighed, feeling more isolated as he stated their names clearly.

"Oh…?" Hugo failed to conceal his surprise, having at least expected the child to state that his father was dead, if not some other plausible reason for his absence. "What about family in Boston… isn't your mother from Boston?" He changed the subject swiftly, seeing the child's face slowly reanimate.

"Yes… yes, sir… she only came to Colorado when I was seven… used to work here, with my Grandpa… 'til he died…" Brian pulled the corner of his mouth into a pout, and turned away from the Doctor once again.

"I… see… Is she your mother; your real mother?" Hugo felt several pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place, realizing that the Michaela Quinn he'd discussed with his colleagues earlier was indeed the woman that lay before him.

"Uh-uh… my real Ma died two years ago… Dr. Mike tried to save her… but she died… Ma asked Dr. Mike to look after us… so she became our Ma…" Brian tightened his grip on Michaela's hand.

Dr. Hodge rose from his crouched position to his feet and turned around as he heard the nurse enter the room behind him.

"Sorry, Doctor… I didn't realize you were still here…" Eva whispered, however remained in the doorway as she realized she'd disturbed them in conversation.

"No, that's quite all right, we're finished… Son… we need to contact someone… to come and look after you for awhile… what family have you here?" Hugo kept his voice low and placid, and waited whilst the young boy considered the question before eventually responding.

"When we were here last year… there was Grandma… and all Ma's sisters… and their families… but Ma said she didn't want Grandma to know we're here… she asked for Aunt Rebecca… that's her big sister… can't you get her… she's real nice… she'll fix everything." Brian was startled at the sound of the older doctor entering the room after the nurse. The psychiatrist indicated for Dr. Hodge to join him in consultation for several moments.

Brian watched the two men as they whispered amongst themselves, before they eventually turned back to him and the nurse.

"What's her name, son?" Dr. Hodge pressed, whereas Dr. Edwards appeared far less interested as he began unfolding several bandages he'd carried in with him.

"I… don't know… Ma just said Rebecca…" Brian grew concerned, aware of the doctors' frustrations at his unhelpful answers.

"Son, that really doesn't…" Dr. Hodge was interrupted by the nurse's tentative voice behind him.

"Doctor… I do apologize… I was talking with Dr. Campbell earlier… if the patient is the late Dr. Quinn's daughter, then, her mother, Elizabeth Quinn, was a patient here last September. She's a widow, her daughter might be listed as a next of kin…" The young nurse blushed at her presumptuousness, however saw the young child's face brighten immediately.

"Yes, that's Grandma… I remember… Ma made her better when she was sick… can you get Aunt Rebecca to come… please, sir?" Brian looked back up at the younger physician, who had been astounded by the rapid pace in which events had transpired.

"We'll do our best, son… Dr. Edwards, I shall be outside, organizing the relevant notification…" Hugo waited for a nod of recognition from the senior physician, before he directed the nurse out into the corridor and followed after her.

Brian waited several moments in silence, as he watched the older doctor tie the twisted bandage to the edge of the far side of the bed. The young boy forced himself to remain quiet, until he was able to take in the exact nature of what was happening in front of him. It wasn't until the doctor tightly secured the bandage around Michaela's left wrist, that Brian felt objection was warranted.

"Sir… why you gotta do that?" He frowned in confusion, and could merely watch in silence, as the physician paced around to the side of the bed where he was sitting, and repeated the restraint application. Brian's concern grew as the lingering silence increased, thinking he wouldn't receive a reply.

"Because, son… your mother has behaved very foolishly… and we need to ensure she isn't likely to do so again…" Dr. Edward's reply was emotionless and curt. Brian's worry was strengthened by the sharpness in the man's voice.

"But… she ain't gonna like you tying her wrists like that… why you actin' like she's done somethin' wrong if she's sick?" Brian grappled with the complex situation, as he slipped his hands tightly under his legs and again began to chew on his lower lip.

"I'm afraid that is her own fault… your mother made herself ill on purpose… she took too much medicine, and we have to ensure she's not given the chance to hurt herself or her baby anymore…" The psychiatrist checked the woman's pulse and breathing a final time, before he made several short notes in her chart and departed from the room, without so much as a glance of recognition to the very bewildered and frightened child.

**X.O.X**

"There ya go… two whiskeys…" Hank slid the small glasses across the table, and received his payment with a small chuckle of gratitude.

"Thanks…" He dropped the coins protectively into the small black tin under the counter, and looked up as he heard the doors open across the room.

"Evenin' there, Jake… thought you'd a… decided to take a break from the warmth and charm of my little establishment…" Hank grinned proudly and gestured around the noisy room mockingly. It wasn't the ambiance to which he was referring, rather the specific alcoholic-related beverages.

"Shut up… and pour me a whiskey…" Jake shook his head in frustration, trying to rid himself of the contents that had been plaguing his mind for the past few hours.

"All right… all right… no need to get nasty… here…" Hank quickly filled the nearby glass and sat it down in front of the barber with a small smirk.

"That ain't nasty…" Jake dismissed harshly and downed the contents of the small glass in a single motion. "Another…" He slid the glass back towards the bartender and watched as it was hesitantly refilled.

"Jumpin' off that wagon tonight, ain't ya…" Hank muttered, as he watched Jake empty the second shot with equal speed.

"Maybe I am… you got a problem with that…" Jake narrowed his eyes, and moved the glass in a deliberate movement back to Hank.

"Ain't me that's gonna have the problem… never did… you don't wanna get sick though… Michaela ain't gonna be happy, she comes back and you're drinkin' again…" Hank reluctantly refilled the small glass yet again.

"Don't drag her into this… Dr. Mike ain't even here…" Jake downed the contents of the third shot in a single mouthful, as Hank picked up on the anger in his voice.

"Hey… calm down, all right… take a seat… Poker game just about to start up… ya interested?" Hank placed the cork back on the bottle of whiskey, not about to refill Jake's glass any time soon.

"I… I dunno… don't really want…" Jake shook his head, still lost in his confused thoughts.

"Well… ya ain't havin' anything more to drink for awhile… so why don't ya just… here…" Hank shrugged and offered a cigar to the barber. "Got 'em fresh in this morning… relax for a bit…" Jake reluctantly accepted the cigar, and, after he retrieved another from the tin behind the bar, both men lit up.

"Thanks…" Jake felt his thinking begin to cloud, as the warm veil of alcohol soothed him and dulled the painful images from his mind.

"Not a problem… hey… it really true Sully had ya cut all his hair today?" Hank chuckled, trying to make light conversation.

"Yeah… so?" Jake cleared his throat, and drew back on the cigar slowly.

"Got everyone mighty stirred up… Now, it's no secret me and Sully ain't exactly friends… but… still think him doin' something like that is mighty drastic… even for him…" Hank leaned in closer, and the bemused smile of curiosity returned to his face. "Is it true he and the kids gone after Michaela and Brian…?" He raised a single eyebrow, and took a puff of his cigar as he awaited Jake's reply.

"How should I know…?" Jake tapped his left hand harshly against the wooden edge of the bar, knowing full well, but not wishing to discuss it.

"Well… you, ah… did the deed, so to speak… reckon he musta told ya why he was doin' it?" Hank licked his lower lip, unable to resist obtaining some new gossip to pass around.

"Hank… it ain't anythin' to do with you… in fact, ain't anyone's business… so why don't ya just butt out… stop interferin' in everyone's lives…" Jake angrily tossed the half-smoked cigar into the nearby spittoon, and stood, knocking the chair loudly to the ground behind him. "All a ya! Just mind ya own business!" He turned to the dozen or so onlookers around them. "Just worry about your own lives… and just… leave everyone else to do the same…" He adjusted his footing, momentarily unsteady on his feet from the alcohol.

Hank frowned immediately when he saw the fury in Jake's eyes, and heard the aggression in his voice. "Think you better leave, Jake… go home… sleep it off…" The bartender gestured towards the front porch. Jake let his eyes drift slowly from Hank's stern stance, to the Saloon entrance. He took a long time to decide on his course of action.

"Fine… got better stuff tucked away at my place anyway… don't know why I was thinking I wanted company…" Jake moved with a very slight stagger towards the door, Hank not satisfied until he'd left the premises.

"Just don't expect me to be holdin' ya hand if ya get sick again… you're on ya own this time…" He bellowed, although pretty certain that Jake had not heard his warning. Throwing a handful of hair back over his shoulder, Hank dismissed the events, and quickly turned his attention back to organizing the evening's poker game.

**X.O.X**

The two doctors remained locked in hushed conversation at the end of the bed, as Brian kept vigil by his mother's bedside.

"From the examination I conducted, there was no evidence of cervical dilation or any other trauma to the fetus, however…" Dr. Hodge frowned and lowered his voice further, "… there is significant internal scarring… indicative of previous delivery…" Dr. Hodge folded his arms across his chest, as the older psychiatrist absorbed the information.

"I wasn't aware of her having other children… son?" He paced around from the end of the bed, and addressed the quiet boy.

"Sir?" Brian's mouth twitched nervously as he leaned back from Michaela's bedside.

"Son, does your mother have any other children… of her own?" Dr. Edwards forced any intimidation to drop from his facial expression as he waited patiently for the child's hesitant reply.

"No, sir… there's just me, and my brother and sister… Ma and Sully were gonna be gettin' married… but she's been really mad at him, so don't think they are anymore… and then Ma said we were comin' here, and that's when I found out she's havin' a baby…" Brian swallowed, seeing the look of fury cross the physician's face.

"Right…" He mumbled, and rushed quickly back to Dr. Hodge's side. Their conversation continued, still in a hushed, yet forceful manner. "Sounds like she's disgraced herself well and truly…" Dr. Edwards moved his head to the side, and tapped his fingers lightly against the edge of his gray beard. "… and been trying to abort this pregnancy for months… from the physical evidence presented…" He turned at the sound of the door opening behind him.

"Excuse me, doctors… Mrs. Dickenson has just arrived…" Eva poked her head through the ajar door, and waited patiently for a response.

"Thank-you… please… show her in…" Dr. Hodge gestured to the large room, as the nurse nodded and opened the door completely.

Brian raised his head at the sound of the nurse's voice, not having recognized the name until the tall, brown-haired woman stepped cautiously into the room behind her. "Aunt Rebecca!" His eyes widened in unshielded relief, as he sprung to his feet and ran across the room to throw himself into her arms in a tight embrace.

"Brian… I don't understand… Michaela?" Rebecca had remained suitably skeptical of the news, since the message had been delivered almost an hour earlier, however now knew for certain that its contents were accurate.

"Oh, I'm so glad they got you here… you gotta fix everything… please… you gotta stop Ma bein' upset… and make the doctor take the stuff off her wrists… and… please, Aunt Rebecca, make everything all right… please… _please_…" The petrified young boy clutched to her waist tightly.

"What are you doing here? Doctors, please, is my sister all right?" Rebecca took several more steps into the room, the small child still snugly nestled by her side. It was then that she had the chance to glance to her sister's motionless form. Rebecca could see the color drained from Michaela face, and felt the apprehension rise in her chest.

"We estimate your sister to make a full recovery, physically… however… there are several complications… which we should really discuss in…" Dr. Edwards was interrupted by Brian's chirpy voice as he proceeded to 'update' his aunt on the events of the day.

"We arrived this morning, Aunt Rebecca… Ma said she had to see this doctor… but I think he was real mean, coz when she finished, she was cryin' and hardly sayin' a word… and so I didn't know if something was wrong with the baby… coz Ma's havin' a baby... but I didn't know that either until couple a days ago… and… so we were back in the hotel, and Ma was really sick… and yelled at me… and so I left the room… then when I came back she wouldn't wake up… so the other doctor brought her here…" Brian struggled to catch his breath after such a long and drawn-out recant.

Rebecca's jaw moved slightly at several key points during Brian's summary, before she frowned and turned to the doctors, her face slightly pale. "Is… is this true?" she stammered, as her right hand rested on the child's shoulder. Rebecca wasn't sure which piece of information shocked her more; the fact that her unmarried sister was carrying a child, or the fact that she lay less than three feet from her, having no knowledge that she'd planned such a journey.

"Well… I must say, the specifics are new to me, however… yes your sister is pregnant, and yes, she was brought here this evening, after a suspected overdose…" Dr. Hodge informed the woman opposite him, taken aback when Dr. Edwards interjected sharply.

"There is absolutely nothing 'suspected' about it… we now have substantial reason to believe your sister was attempting to abort her unborn child," Dr. Edwards' voice remained emotionally detached and succinct.

Dr, Hodge quickly returned the interjection, and Rebecca had no time to defend their accusations. "Well… I… hardly think it's appropriate to discuss…" Dr. Hodge began, however both physician's looked up directly at the sound of the older woman's less-than-hushed voice.

"For mercy's sake! Will somebody please just start at the beginning; when was my sister brought here?" She felt Brian recoil at the frustration in her voice, however managed to reassure him with a tight squeeze of his shoulders.

"Approximately two hours ago… from the Radisson… she was unconscious when attended to by an on-staff physician… and brought here immediately. She's not regained consciousness yet…" Dr. Hodge reduced the speed of his voice, in a deliberate attempt to sound more calm and controlled.

"But Doctors… my sister is a physician… she would be aware of the appropriate dosage of any medicine in her possession…" Rebecca's mouth dropped open slightly, as the older psychiatrist again took over the conversation.

"That, is precisely our point, Mrs. Dickenson. Your sister self-medicated herself an alarmingly dangerous dosage of a sedative… now, we don't yet know whether this was an attempt on her own life… her unborn child's… or both… in either case… you were contacted because your sister is to be placed under psychiatric detention, and the young boy needs to be taken care of…" Dr. Edwards gestured his left arm towards the child, who had pushed himself more firmly against his aunt's side during the very intense discussion that had ensured.

"I… of course… I'm sorry… I just need a minute… I'm afraid I didn't quite know what to expect when I arrived, however… I didn't expect to find Michaela here… and I certainly didn't expect to hear… any of _this_," Rebecca drew several deep breaths, as her troubled gaze alternated from Michaela, to Brian, and finally back to her sister.

"Please… take your time… we will know more once…" Dr. Hodge voiced softly, before he was interrupted by the nurse's attentive summons.

"Doctors… your patient…" She had seen the woman's left arm move slightly, only moments before. Eva was also aware that the minute movement had gone undetected by the physicians engaged in the intense conversation.

"Michaela?" Rebecca turned, and also saw Michaela's left hand clench, as the two doctors arrived quickly to the right side of her bed. Brian hastily pulled Rebecca closer to the other.

"Ma… Ma! Wake up, Ma!" Brian leaned forwards to grip his mother's left hand. Both physicians remained silent as they waited for the woman to regain consciousness.

Michaela heard the sound of slurred voices around her, and was aware of the physical contact against her left hand. She could feel her head throbbing, almost deafening the sounds around her, and tried to free her hand from the foreign grasp. She couldn't. Again, she heard the echoed sound of voices, and felt herself more aware of her surroundings, enough to sense the firm pressure around both her wrists. Another few moments passed before Michaela was able to comprehend her restricted movement, and pulled more sharply against the unknown restraints.

Brian turned back to Rebecca, when he saw his mother's futile movements.

"See ya gotta take 'em off…" He hung his head and returned his attention to his mother. "It's all right, Ma… it's me… and Aunt Rebecca…" He took a step backwards and his chin began to tremble when he heard Michaela's disoriented and frightened moan.

"Michaela… it's all right… It's all right. Open your eyes…" Rebecca arrived quickly by the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, she reached for her sister's forearm, with the hope that Michaela would open her eyes.

Michaela tried once again to pull her arm from the unfamiliar contact, as the darkness behind her eyes gradually lightened. However, the increased light only further aggravated the painful aching of her head, and she squeezed her eyes closed tighter in response.

"Michaela… come on… Michaela, please…" Rebecca brought her right hand to her sister's forehead, and softly began to smooth her hair back along the top of her head.

Michaela felt the contact instantly, and spontaneously tried to withdraw from it. Although she managed to move her head slightly, the pain from her headache, as well as the residual effects of the sedative, had drained her of almost all physical energy. She still could not see beyond the blackness of her eyelids, and felt herself overwhelmed by instinctive fear, as she again tried to move her left hand. This time, she was more aware of the pressure around her wrists; something was preventing her from moving freely.

"No…" Michaela heard the muffled plea escape her lips, as she tried again to turn her head from the unwelcome physical contact.

"Everything's all right, Ma… you're in the hospital… don't gotta be scared…" Brian pushed gently against his aunt's left side, in an attempt to get closer to his mother.

"Please… let me go… let me…" Michaela continued to fight against the restraints tied securely around both of her wrists, her desperation and irrational terror becoming more obvious to all in the room.

"Ma… Ma… it's all right…" Brian tried to grab Michaela's left hand once again, but realized the physical contact only increased her panic. "Please… sir… take 'em off! You're scarin' her!" Brian looked up towards the two doctors who watched silently from across the other side of the bed.

Michaela could hear the high-pitched voice through the drug-induced haze, and knew she recognized it; but could not be certain as to the identity of the speaker. That, however, was of miniscule importance, compared to the weight of the hand on her forehead, the immobilization of her wrists, and the unmistakable dull ache, indicative of internal physical intrusion.

"Are you just going to stand there!" Rebecca glared back up at the two physicians, who both remained quietly observant of the situation before them. "This is ridiculous! Michaela… Michaela… open your eyes, it's all right… it's all right…" Rebecca tried once again to rouse her sister's lucid attention, to no avail.

She could hear a voice, closer this time, and feel hands on her shoulders. What was going on? Michaela felt the air constrict in her throat, and allowed her lower arms to drop back to the bed in defeat; anything had to be better than the darkness behind her eyes.

"Ma?" Brian looked worriedly between his aunt's alarmed expression, and back to his mother, as he saw her eyes slowly open, and the desperate movements of her lower arms cease.

She heard the child's voice once again, more clearly this time, as her eyes began to adjust to the light.

"There… see…" Rebecca forced her expression to neutralize, and removed any hint of panic from her voice as she waited several moments for her sister to orientate herself to her surroundings.

"Ma… it's Brian… ya all right?" Brian managed to slip between Rebecca, and once again took his mother's left hand.

Michaela stared blankly back at the faces to the left side of the bed, before she slowly turned her head to her right, and saw the unfamiliar faces for the first time. Her eyebrows dropped into a mild cringe, as she took a sharp breath.

"It would appear someone has been rather foolish, wouldn't it?" Dr. Edwards phrased his words crisply and unemotionally.

Michaela blinked twice, showing no outward indication of having heard the man's statement. She was consumed in trying to rationalize the physical sensations within her. It was then that she moved her head again, only enough to glance down at the white material restraints around each of her wrists. As she clasped each of her hands into tight fists, Michaela turned her gaze back up to the physician who had spoken several words moments earlier, her expression one of genuine perplexity and distress.

"Suitable punishment under the circumstances, I would say. Not about to have you running off and repeating your earlier antics, are we?" Dr. Edwards cleared his throat, and turned to the doctor on his left, who took over the interrogation.

"Whether it matters to you or not, you've done no obvious harm… your baby is fine. However, you do have some explaining to do, _doctor…"_ Dr. Hodge crossed his arms tightly against his chest, and awaited a verbal reply.

Michaela had gradually processed the events of the last few hours. She could remember a hotel room; remember feeling ill, and then the taste of a bitter liquid on her lips. Then… only darkness.

She turned her head sharply back towards the dark-haired woman standing over her, her eyes wide, as if to beg for an explanation.

"You're in the hospital, Michaela. The doctor's said you've taken some medicine?" Rebecca moved her right hand back to her sister's forehead, and resumed to idly brush back loose strands of hair.

_Then it was true? _Michaela thought to herself, having recognized her sister minutes earlier. She could remember the sensation of the fluid passing down her throat. Michaela squinted in confusion at the sight of the vaguely familiar face above her.

"Ma? How come ya took the medicine, Ma? Why didn't ya tell me if ya were sick?" Brian leaned forwards, his attention drawn to his aunt, as she tenderly rested an arm on his right shoulder.

"Brian… how about if you wait outside, just for a few moments. Whilst I talk with the doctors?" Rebecca smiled encouragingly, and waited until the nurse had picked up on her request. Silently, the child was led, rather reluctantly, from the room.

"Well? Have you anything to say for yourself? Any attempt, albeit futile and meaningless, at a defense would be better than nothing…" Dr. Edwards rubbed the edge of his beard as the room once again fell silent.

"Michaela? Tell the doctors… tell them, it was an accident… Tell them they've made a mistake…" Rebecca squeezed her sister's left shoulder, as she realized Michaela still hadn't said a word since opening her eyes. "I don't understand… why won't she say something? Michaela, please?" Rebecca frowned, taking in her younger sister's blank and lifeless expression; Rebecca barely recognized her.

"Perhaps she has realized the severity of her actions… whatever the case, she'll be kept under strict observation, as she has demonstrated quite clearly, that she can not be trusted. And we can not allow her to further jeopardize either her own health, or that of the unborn child." Dr. Edwards gave an unshielded glare of contempt towards his patient, before turning to his colleague for further confirmation.

"Dr. Edwards is quite right. There is… evidence of previous self-harm, and I will not be taking any chances…" Dr. Hodge muttered grimly.

"You must be mistaken; my sister would never do what you've suggested. She would never hurt her own child," Rebecca kept her voice firm and even, as she vehemently defended her sister.

"Ask her yourself, then. Ask her if it's true." Dr. Hodge gestured with his right hand towards his patient, who still, had not uttered a coherent word since opening her eyes.

"Michaela… say something, please…" Rebecca reached forwards to grasp her sister's left arm, her tone desperate and hollow. Michaela remained silent, and kept her head lowered. Her consciousness however, continued to appear miles away.

"You don't know my sister. Michaela would never do the things you say. There has to be more to this… something we _don't_ know…" Rebecca looked back up towards the doctors, and alternated her gaze between them, as she pleaded for a rational explanation.

"Well, no such reason is forthcoming, is it? I'm afraid your sister has all but sealed her own fate. If there is no improvement, she will remain under psychiatric detention until the child is born, and then… matters will be reassessed." Dr. Edwards was mildly sympathetic to the fear in the older woman's eyes, however knew professionally, that, any woman, a doctor no less, who had arrived at the point where she so violently attempted the destruction of her own flesh and blood, was beyond salvation.

Rebecca saw the hopeless look in the physician's eyes, and heard the conviction in his voice. This was beyond her; she didn't know what had happened to render her sister to such an uncharacteristic state of silence, however, she knew she would do all she could to protect her.

"Michaela… I… I won't let them do this to you… I'll… find somebody to help… I promise…" She tenderly gripped her sister's arm, before she leant forward to place a gentle kiss on Michaela's forehead. Rebecca felt her sister's arm flinch under her hand, and quickly pulled back, hoping that a verbal acknowledgement would be forthcoming. The raw terror she saw in her sister's eyes caused Rebecca to remove her arm immediately, however, her mind continued to reel in an attempt to rationalize Michaela's non-verbal reaction.

"This… isn't my sister… Something's wrong, you'll see. There's an explanation," Rebecca tightened her jaw, regarding each of the doctors in a stern, determined glare, before she turned and paced swiftly from the room.


	68. Chapter 68

**Chapter 68**

Rebecca heard the heels of her shoes tap rhythmically against the floorboards, as she strode assertively to the nurse's station at the end of the long corridor. The tall, blond-haired nurse, who had escorted Brian from the room, looked up with a soft smile.

"Can I help you?" She tilted her head, and saw the distress on the older woman's face.

"Yes… I, Dr. William Burke… I know he works here… I was wondering how I might go about contacting him?" Rebecca kept her voice low, sure that neither of the physicians who had remained in Michaela's room would approve of her slightly deceptive behavior.

"Oh… actually… I saw him earlier… in the post-operative ward…" Eva paused when she saw the small boy run up to his aunt's side.

"Aunt Rebecca… is Ma all right? Did the doctors make her better?" He nestled back against her waist, oblivious to the interruption he'd caused.

"I was just about to go on my meal break… if you'd like, I'd be happy to mention to him that you'd asked for him? If he's time, he may be able to stop by?" Eva glanced down at a chart in her hand.

"Please… if you might… He and, my sister are… friends… I was hoping he might be able to provide some help…" Rebecca rubbed her left arm along Brian's back, having sensed the child's panic.

"Not a problem… shouldn't be too long…" Eva nodded, her voice sincere, as she returned to the paperwork before her.

"Let's sit for awhile, Brian…" Rebecca guided the boy back to the long bench. Brian settled himself quickly, and began to idly swing his legs back and forth.

"Brian… your mother didn't tell me she was planning to visit… when did you arrive?" Rebecca kept her tone gentle and hushed.

"This mornin'… don't think she wanted anyone to know… coz she said we weren't visitin' Grandma or nothin'… Aunt Rebecca… what's gonna happen?" Brian brought his large eyes back up to meet her gaze.

"I'm not sure, sweetheart… I'm going to make sure Michaela's all right though… I promise… Brian…?" Rebecca stumbled awkwardly, not sure how to phrase the question that had been burning at her for the last ten minutes or so. "Brian… I… didn't know your mother was… expecting a child… she didn't tell me of her marriage… and… I would have thought…" Rebecca stopped, as the child shook his head deliberately.

"But she ain't… ain't married, Aunt Rebecca. Don't think she's gonna be gettin' married anymore," Brian hung his head, his entire world being turned upside-down by the events of the last few months.

"Why do you say that? I thought she and Sully were…?" Rebecca failed to hide the suspicious frown that appeared on her face.

Brian shook his head quickly, "She's mad at him… well… everyone really… been yellin' at Sully… and Colleen, even me… but then she'll just start cryin', like today… I'm worried that she's real sick… coz she ain't been actin' like she used to before…" Brian felt his chest rise, as he drew a heavy breath, the weight of the world pressing down on his small shoulders.

"How do you mean? Since before what?" Rebecca pursed her lips, and leaned closer towards the child.

"Since… since she went away… when she got hurt…" Brian blinked several times, not realizing his disclosure was news to his aunt.

"I don't understand… what do you mean, hurt?" Rebecca felt the shattering reality hit her, the instant she repeated the word out loud. _No. What was the child saying?_

"My birthday… Ma got kidnapped… she was gone for days and days… everyone was real upset… and had to get Doctor Cassidy… thought Ma was gonna… die…" Brian tried to stop the tears that had built up in his eyes from falling, as his voice trailed off into a choked sob. As he gave into wracks of tears, he leant back against his aunt's side, and felt her hand grip his shoulder soothingly.

"Ssh… Brian… you're here now… and your mother, your mother's…" Somehow Rebecca couldn't bring herself to utter the word "fine", because that in itself, would be an untruth.

"Ever… ever since… Ma's been angry… or sad… and she and Colleen been fightin'… and then she was comin' here… and I caught her leavin', so she took me too…" He sniffled several times, in an attempt to stop his tears.

"Brian… I need you to think very carefully… _why_ did Michaela come here?" Rebecca slowly began to piece together the evidence from both her recent conversation with the child, along with the doctor's previous accusations.

"I… I don't…" He shook his head gently several times, as he tried to think of an explanation, "… to see a doctor… about the baby… we saw him just after lunch today… that's when Ma got really sick…" Brian brought his right hand to slowly wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"Brian… one more thing… do you know how long," Rebecca rephrased quickly, "… do you know when the baby is going to be born?" She tried to confirm her darkest fears, not sure whether the child would be able to accurately answer her question.

"Don't know… asked Ma about it on the train, and she got real mad, and said she weren't gonna talk about it… but… I dunno if it's gonna be that long, coz I could hear the baby in her stomach… and… couple a weeks ago… I was bad… I didn't mean to or nothin'… but I saw her changin'… and she's real fat… but it don't show when she has got her skirt all around, like real baggy kinda…" Brian watched the look of worry creep onto his aunt's face, immediately concerned he'd said something he shouldn't have.

"One last thing, I promise… when's your birthday, Brian?" Rebecca forced the words from her mouth, as she felt her lips dry at the mere consideration.

"May tenth… day they got Ma back…" He turned his gaze down to the floor, preoccupied by the sight of his legs moving slowly in front of him.

"That's… four months, sweetheart… I…" Rebecca looked up at the sound of the masculine voice that emanated from several feet away.

"Brian?" William clasped his hands behind his back, and remained still. He had barely believed the nurse's words minutes earlier.

"Dr. Burke?" The child looked up, bewildered by the ever-growing sea of remotely familiar faces.

"Oh… thank-you for coming, Dr. Burke… I… need your help…" Rebecca carefully slipped her right arm from Brian's back, and rose to her feet.

"I received your message… I… is something the matter… Brian…? I'm not sure I understand…" The male physician shook his head slightly, as he tried to discern why Rebecca would be here alone with the young boy.

"Yes… I…" Rebecca noticed the small child gaze between them, his intrigue apparent. "Sweetheart, please, just sit here for a few minutes, whilst I talk with Dr. Burke…" Rebecca and the physician moved several yards along the corridor.

"Mrs. Dickenson, I fail to…" William smiled a small indication of polite confusion, before Rebecca cut him off rather abruptly.

"It's Michaela. I… I don't really know what's going on, the doctors won't tell me specifics." Rebecca paused momentarily to collect her breath, "They said Michaela has taken medicine… that she shouldn't have… It's ludicrous; they said that she was trying to harm herself… and that I was contacted to take care of Brian, because they're not going to release her until…" The oldest Quinn daughter dropped her head to the floor, as she forced herself to continue through the facts which still shocked her. "Dr. Burke, apparently Michaela's pregnant… and that because of what they say she did, they're not releasing her until after the baby is born… but from what I can gather, that will be months…" Rebecca glanced back at the young child, who appeared to be studying the tops of his shoes in fascination.

"Wait, I… Just a moment…" William drew a pained breath, as he forced every professional fiber within his body to detach from the personal emotions he felt rising to the surface of his awareness. "They are going to detain her? Did you explain that she may have been accurately self-medicating herself?" He stumbled to interpret the information which had been presented to him.

"I… I told them she is a doctor. That just seemed to make matters worse. That that meant she knew exactly what she was doing; There's… something wrong, and I… I just… I don't know how to deal with the doctors… I'm sorry if I overstepped the boundaries of…" Rebecca stopped, as William raised his hand to interject.

"No… it's quite all right, I would like to help… There are a few things I don't understand however," William cleared his throat as his eyes narrowed to comprehend the severity of the situation. "Michaela would know that the administration of certain medications during pregnancy is dangerous… Did they not ask her why she was self-medicating?" William's face melted into an absorbed frown of concentration.

"No…, well… she was awake… but she won't talk, Dr. Burke… I… dear God I hope I'm wrong, but… Brian said Michaela and Sully aren't married." Rebecca's jaw dropped after finished her sentence.

"But you said she…" He leaned slightly closer towards the brown-haired woman, as she continued, her voice nothing more than a hurried whisper.

"And if that is the case… there are no assurances as to _how_ she came to be in this condition… I spoke with Brian briefly, I'm not sure how much he understands… he mentioned… back in May… I… I dread to think but… if she and Sully aren't married… then; I know my sister, she would never let something like this happen. For her to be… in this predicament… and not… something must have… I, I'm sorry… I just… I can't believe this is happening… I," Rebecca felt her breath catch in her throat, however managed to force the remaining sentence out. "All I know is, that woman in there, is not my sister… and… whatever the doctors say she's done… we have to get to the bottom of it all. I apologize if I dragged you into the middle of the situation... I, just didn't know where else to turn…" Rebecca stopped suddenly after her long explanation, as William looked back towards the closed door.

His voice was professionally controlled and void of emotion. "Would you mind if I asked to see her? I know Dr. Hodge personally… I'm sure if I mention that I…" William dismissed the questionable status of his relationship with Michaela quickly, "…I doubt he would have any objection to me providing another opinion." He glanced back across at the empty expression on the young boy's face.

"Please… I trust you… Michaela trusts you; do what you think is best…" She nodded, her expression strong.

"Right… Well, if you remain with Brian… I should only be a few minutes. I promise, once I know anything more, I'll talk with you," William trailed off with a soft smile to reassure her.

Rebecca waited until he'd crossed the hallway and entered Michaela's hospital room, before she once again took a seat by Brian's side.

"Aunt Rebecca…" he received a nod of encouragement and continued,"…we gonna get to go home? Or does Ma have to stay in the hospital like the doctors said?" The small child began to fidget with a round brown button on his jacket.

"I don't know yet, honey… Dr. Burke's going to talk with the other doctors… Brian… can you… tell me what happened earlier? Did you see your mother take any medicine?" Rebecca frowned, not knowing whether subtle probing was even worth the worry she saw creep into the young boy's eyes.

"No… after we got back from the doctor's, Ma just started cryin'… and I got scared she was gonna yell at me more… then she fell asleep. So I just waited, and it started to get dark out. Then Ma woke up… and that's when she got sick. I asked her if the baby was making her sick… and she… _really_ screamed at me… and… broke the glass. I started cryin'… and I got scared, and she said it was all my fault… and…" Brian pressed his head securely against his aunt's left side as he continued, "… and I… said I hated her… went outside… Then when I came back in, she was asleep… but she asked for you…" Brian felt his aunt's fingers begin to delicately stroke the top of his fine hair.

"Me?" Rebecca prompted quietly, as she felt the child's sobs radiate against her ribs.

"Yes… she said for you not to tell Grandma… that she was sorry… and that's… that's when she wouldn't wake up…" He allowed himself to be soothed by the sensation of her fingers against his scalp.

"Well… she's in the best place now, sweetheart… you don't have to worry any longer…" Rebecca knew she wanted to ask more, however was torn between the trauma which lurked behind the child's eyes, and the personal hesitation she had to giving any more thought to what was already an heinous consideration.

**X.O.X**

Olive grasped the edge of her skirt, as she ascended the stairs to the church. She'd felt uneasy all day, since her conversation with Dorothy that morning. As she entered the back of the church, Olive felt the doubts resurface; perhaps talking with the Reverend wasn't the best thing to do; perhaps she was best keeping this to herself. She sighed and closed the door behind her. No. She needed to talk with someone. She needed to resolve the conflict welling up within her.

"Olive? My… I certainly didn't expect to see you here at this hour… please…" Timothy looked up from the sermon he had been working on, and gestured to the benches in front of him.

"Didn't mean to go interruptin', Reverend… if you're busy…" She hesitantly turned back towards the door.

"No, don't be ridiculous… if you came to see me, then… or if you just wanted to be alone, to pray, maybe?" He speculated, as he closed the bible on the lectern before him.

"No… I… I did come to speak with you… I… it needs to be in confidence, however…" Olive swallowed, and walked past several rows of benches before she gingerly took a seat.

"Of course… Olive, you know you can talk to me… as a member of the clergy… anything that is said between us will go no further…" Timothy arrived by her side and sat down to Olive's right.

"I've been… feeling confused… that is… well, I thought I felt a certain way, however… you might say I'm having a crisis of conscience. Reverend… when the Bible says one thing… however you feel strongly another way… how does one know what is right?" Olive frowned, never having usually been so open about her feelings.

"Well…" Timothy cleared his throat nervously, "… life is never as black and white as it seems… I've often found that… talking through such a dilemma, will allow me to realize that my feelings and holy scripture are saying the same thing… just… in another way… do you think it's possible that this might explain your feelings?" He looked closely at the troubled expression on the widow's face.

"Ah… no. The bible states very clearly… that which I feel…" Olive realized she wouldn't be able to find solace without further explaining her confusion. "Reverend… the bible says thou shall not kill… and the law says that a woman does not have the right to kill her unborn child… but… what if… are there never exceptions to this?" Olive lowered her gaze, aware that she was breaking confidence.

"I… I can't at this moment think of any… Olive… I… that is rather a strange dilemma, are you sure there's not something you…" the Reverend couldn't help but show his obvious concern at the particular content of Olive's question.

"It's not me, Reverend… but what if… through no fault of her own… a woman was faced with an unwanted pregnancy. Is it fair that she be forced to carry that child… to give it life?" Olive knew it would only be a matter of time before the Reverend realized to whom she was referring.

"The bible is very clear, Olive; Thou shalt not kill… and common law reflect this… are we… this does sound rather… pressing… it's not the type of question I would expect had you not a specific individual in mind…" Timothy ran his palm against the edge of the leather bible, and looked back up at the brunette, hopeful of a response.

"Yes, Reverend… there is. Reverend, perhaps you can explain for me… why would... God… allow a child to be created… out of violence? Why would he expect a woman to have to go through something so cruel?" Olive clasped her hands loosely in her lap, her face twisted in misunderstanding.

Timothy took several moments to piece together Olive's question, but required further clarification, "Do you mean…" his voice dropped, "… if a woman is violated… and a child is conceived as a result of that act?" The Reverend's voice was strained; he knew in that instant who Olive was referring to.

"Yes. I… I think you know who I'm talkin' about… don't you Reverend…" Olive paused as Timothy lowered his head. "Now tell me it's fair… explain to me why God would do such a thing." Olive took a sharp breath, as she awaited his reply.

"I can't… I'm sorry. Olive, I… who else knows about this?" Timothy's voice was hushed through shock.

"Not many people… Dorothy… Myra, Ingrid… myself… even Sully only found out yesterday… the children have known for awhile…" Olive interlocked her fingers, and waited for a response.

"Oh my…" Timothy trailed off, his head shaking several times in bewilderment. "I… I wish I had known… I…" He looked up as Olive interrupted, her voice more weighted.

"Why? Couldn't a done nothin'… I've thought the same thing. If I'd a known, I coulda said something… coulda stopped her leavin' like this… I realize now it all woulda been for nothin'. Ain't nothin' anyone coulda said that coulda made this situation any better… just been feelin' guilty 'bout… well… I don't got no problem with what Dr. Mike's doin'… but… still somethin' inside a me sayin' it's not right… that's why I wanted to talk with you, Reverend. I wanted to make peace with my conscience I suppose…" Olive drew a ragged breath, as Timothy only just realized what she meant.

"Olive… I understand your moral confliction. I feel it too…" He ran his finger along the edge of the leather-bound bible. "However… two wrongs don't make a right… and, as unfair as that may seem to us… because we care about Dr. Mike… it doesn't make the killing of a unborn child any the more fair… I take it Sully and the children have gone to stop her…?" Timothy felt his head reel with images of the past four months. It all made sense now.

"Yes… but not for the reasons I feel… because it's dangerous for her… Reverend… I don't know what to hope for… I can't see the best solution to this… if Sully and the children find her… how will she be able to stay here? How will the town... deal with this? And then… if they don't find her… and she ends this pregnancy… how will she live with herself? I don't see how this can resolve in anyone's favor…" Olive shifted her eyes around the empty church, seeing it filled with townsfolk as it was on a typical Sunday.

"The only thing we can do is pray, Olive… pray that the Lord will guide everyone to make the choices he deems right. I know that between us, we will make this work. There are enough people in this town on Dr. Mike's side, that, no matter what, I know we can get through this." Timothy felt his right hand grip more firmly around the bible he was carrying. After several moments of silence, Olive turned her gaze back to him.

"You're right… it just seems… such a shame… so unnecessary… and what about the child? What kind of life would any child have being brought into the world through such tragedy…" She felt mild repulsion threaten to consume her.

"If it is God's will, Olive… then there is always a higher purpose in mind… It is not our place to question that." Timothy felt the woman's sharp intake of breath in response to his seemingly unfeeling words.

"I'm sorry, Reverend… I'm not ready to believe that… what kind of a loving God would do this to any woman… There is not a sin great enough to render Michaela deserving of such punishment." She stood and looked towards the back of the church hopelessly.

"I didn't say such acceptance would be easy… we need to have faith. It will take time, Olive…" Timothy attempted to console the widow, his words slightly rushed and forced, as she shook her head dismissively and paced back along the aisle.

"Goodnight, Reverend… I… thank-you…" She sufficed weakly and made her way silently from the church.

Timothy turned back towards the front of the church, and rested the bible gently on the bench beside him. As he raised his eyes upwards, he moved forwards onto his knees and clasped his hands against the bench in front of him. His eyes closed in desperate prayer.


	69. Chapter 69

**Chapter 69**

William cleared his throat nervously as he stepped into the bare, clinical room. The small turn of the doorknob was the only sound to stir the attention of the two physicians still locked in conversation at the end of the large, wrought-iron bed.

"Excuse me, I… Dr. Burke?" Dr. Hodge initially opposed the younger physician's presence in the room, however, adjusted his tone when he recognized the man who now stood opposite him.

"Dr. Hodge… I do apologize… I realize I might be intruding…" William clasped his hands nervously together in front of him. His eyes locked on Michaela's sleeping form the instant he had turned around from closing the door.

"That's quite all right, is it another patient, am I needed elsewhere?" Hugo let the chart drop back down to the white table at the end of the bed, and prepared to cross the room.

"No. No… it is nothing of the sort… I…" William forced himself to divert his attention back to the physicians opposite him, his face still grim from the reality of the patient's identity. "I realize my actions are perhaps out of line… however, I… I wished to enquire as to your patient's wellbeing…" His voice wavered, as his bright blue eyes looked between each of the stern doctors before him.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I…" Dr. Hodge protested, before William stepped forward to reiterate his request.

"I… Dr. Quinn… you know she was in practice here several years ago… we, well, I would like to think we were friends… Her sister contacted me… Please, I realize this is not strictly as it should be… however, I…" William paused at the arrogant glare of disbelief he saw appear across the psychiatrist's face.

"Dr. Burke… might you be prying?" Dr. Edward's voice was cold and unemotional; he had made up his mind about this case long ago.

"Yes." William felt the single word slip without inflection from his mouth. The room remained silent whilst each of the men carefully regarded the younger physician.

"Dr. Edwards… please, might you give us a few moments…" Dr. Hodge was captured by the unshielded honesty which lingered in William's eyes.

"This is preposterous! This man has no business meddling in a case which has already taken up too much time." The graying psychiatrist waited for the obstetrician to side with him, however, when no objection came, paced back across to the closed door. His final utterance was huffed, "I refuse to stand by and witness such unprofessional conduct… Dr. Hodge… you are well aware of my opinion regarding the management of this case… however, if you choose to let this naïve man's soft-heartedness influence your opinion, then… you are on your own… If you wish to stand by, and allow a child's life to be jeopardized by anything this man may say… then… I want no further involvement in this case. Do not request my assistance any further!" Dr. Edwards threw the large, wooden door open roughly, before he strode out into the corridor, without giving either physician so much as another glance.

Hugo kept his expression blank and unreadable; William initially concerned he'd caused irreparable harm.

"I do apologize… I was only…" William allowed the older man to interrupt his attempted apology, the two having been genuine acquaintances for many years.

"No… it was possibly for the best. Dr. Edwards has always been too hasty to jump to conclusions. He believes there is no cure for those who become troubled in such a powerful way… from the old school, he feels detention and restraints are the only method of control which are necessary. If this woman truly is all that I've heard, then… perhaps her sister is to be believed. Perhaps there is more to this presentation. My concern, _doctor, _however, remains with the unborn child. If you feel you can shed some light on the situation, please… I would welcome any such attempt… however, you know the legal ramifications," Dr. Hodge adjusted his footing nervously, almost grateful for William's interruption.

"Forgive me… but what exactly is the patient accused of having taken?" William raised his right hand out towards his colleague, his voice darkening in indication of the directness of his question.

"She was found unconscious… with an empty bottle of Laudanum… in a hotel room…" Dr. Hodge looked down very subtly to the chart less than a foot in front of him, which rested slightly crookedly on top of the uncluttered table.

"Has there been no suggestion, that there might be some physical basis for such administration? Dr. Quinn might simply have…" Dr. Burke stammered, as he once again forced himself to remain detached from the reality that Michaela was laying only several feet from him.

"Don't waste your time, William… I know you wish to think the best whenever possible… however, there is no excuse for this. Dr. Quinn knew better than to consume that amount for medicinal purposes. Regardless of the fact, given her easily detectable condition, she had absolutely no justification for…" William interjected at once, when he realized he'd almost overlooked the most disturbing piece of information.

"You have verified the pregnancy?" His voice was flat as his gaze narrowed back to the dark brown cardboard chart.

"Oh yes. She is well into her second trimester, and all evidence indicates satisfactory fetal health. I suspect it was my examination, however, that prompted Dr. Edwards' extreme reaction…" Hugo dropped his left hand flatly to the folded document, as William pulled his gaze back up to his colleague.

"He thinks she was trying to… abort this pregnancy? That is absurd! Michaela would never," William forced his jaw closed tightly when he saw the flash of skepticism pass across the older physician's face.

"Calm down! Perhaps this is the exact reason why Dr. Edwards questioned your discussing the case with me. I know this might be difficult to hear… however… there is considerable physical evidence to support this conclusion." Dr. Hodge flipped the folder open, and gestured to the scribbled notes he'd made not long ago. William shrugged in confusion as he began to glance over the chart.

"Scarring, Dr. Burke. And she has not delivered before, has she?" William could only shake his head, as a small frown of concentration came to his lips. Almost in disbelief, he continued to read through the noted clinical findings. "No… I saw her less than a year ago… there is no way…" William winced at the graphic observations of the previously conducted internal examination.

"Then I have no choice… but to conclude with Dr. Edwards' assessment… that this is perhaps only the last, of many attempts, to terminate an otherwise healthy pregnancy. Medical training would have afforded her the necessary anatomical knowledge… and were she desperate enough to save her reputation… or protect the man who has disgraced her, then… well… I have certainly seen similar efforts." Hugo muttered glibly, as his eyes lowered from William's.

The younger physician refused to accept such a conclusion, and his expression reignited to match the vehemence in his words, "Are you saying… she… deliberately… inflicted such trauma upon herself… there is absolutely no way… and besides… even, heaven-forbid, if she were attempting something so despicable… I suspect she could have gone about it, in a far less damaging manner…" William folded his arms definitely across his chest, expecting more of an animated retort from his colleague.

"Perhaps. We don't know… do we…" Dr. Hodge merely closed the chart between them, his attention drifting back to his unconscious patient. "There is also a letter… it seemed Dr. Quinn attempted to gain assistance in the commission of such a crime… which only adds further weight to the supposition that this overdose, was… anything but accidental." Hugo turned back to Dr. Burke when no further verbal challenge came. "I fail to see how you think you might be of any assistance…" he sighed, as William remembered fragments of the conversation he'd had with Rebecca not long earlier.

"Michaela… has the most upstanding character of any woman I have met. I believe, despite any evidence to the contrary, that she would not have allowed such a fate to befall her, unless… Oh, mercies… no…" William felt his chest drop, as the room froze, and horrid realization dawned on him, "… unless she did not consent to such an advance in the first place…" He felt his clasped hands become clammy against his stomach, and struggled to think rationally against the powerful emotions that threatened to cloud his perception.

"Take hold of yourself, William… you're overreacting! You are looking for any reason, however implausible, to excuse this woman's behavior." Hugo stepped forward and applied a light grasp to William's left wrist.

"No, I'm not… I… this is the only way that this can make sense… For her to be here, like this… with no explanation… not having contacted her family…" William's voice began to fade off hoarsely, as he unintentionally let his gaze drift back to Michaela's peacefully sleeping outline.

"All of which are equally supportive of _my_ speculation. Whether you like it or not… no woman of any virtue would put herself into such a situation… that would justify such reprehensible counter measures… I'm sorry if you are personally involved in this… however, I, am bound to act in accordance with the law… with what is…" Dr. Hodge saw the flicker of contention flash across his friend's face, and paused to allow him to continue.

"But… if she had no choice, then… surely you don't believe such an outcome is fair.." William gestured across the room with his right hand, however Hugo wasted no time in clarifying his opinion.

"I did not mention fair for one moment, William… But… even given such grave circumstances, there are other options. Any physician would have been well aware, of far more appropriate measures to take; a child could be well-placed with a childless family… even in an orphanage if need be… whatever the case… there is absolutely no excuse for any woman… to take such a course of action… and a doctor no less. You realize this will need to be reported," Hugo checked his golden pocket watch briefly, before he slipped it delicately back into his vest, about to move towards the door.

"No, wait!" William panicked and glared with fierce intensity at his colleague. "You… you can't do this… please… not… not yet… at least… wait until we can talk with her. I… I have to know… please. You knew her father… you know this family. All I am asking for is some time," William didn't realize he had gripped his colleague's arms so strongly until he felt his fingertips tighten around the edges of the older man's jacket.

"She's already been awake, Dr. Burke… I assure you talking with her did no good…" Hugo muttered, as he slid the physician's hands from his upper arms.

"Then… just give me this evening… until tomorrow morning… I promise… I'll take full responsibility for her safety…" William looked over towards the bed, before he dared to glance back at Dr. Hodge for a response.

"Until tomorrow morning; nine sharp, Doctor Burke. And if there's no improvement, or worse, any more unacceptable behavior… _you_ will be held completely accountable… and I'll have no other option, than to follow through with Dr. Edwards' recommendation that she be further detained." Hugo hovered in the doorway for several moments, before a small sigh of hopelessness was muttered, and he departed from the room.

William allowed his eyes to linger on the brass doorknob for several moments, as the physician's footsteps trailed off along the hallway. Only then, did he draw a replenishing breath and turn back to Michaela's hospital bed. William's previously taken breath was exhaled steadily into a weary sigh, as he pulled a solid wooden chair to the right side of the bed and sat silently.

Michaela's hair had been pulled down and brushed until it trailed neatly over her right shoulder. Small, fine wisps of curls lined her forehead. William found his gaze leave the end of her hair, and trail along her right arm, the one nearest him, to her firmly clenched fist. His shoulders dropped when he saw the tautness of the crisp white bandages against her wrists and, from the pale red markings, knew she'd fought the barbaric restraints.

"Michaela?" He stated her name serenely, hesitant to initiate any physical contact.

William cleared his throat, hoping that might rouse her, as he glanced from the cream material of her nightdress as it met the pale blue bedspread. Had he not known, William would not have thought the pregnancy obvious; although, he was well aware that it was not an exact science.

He brought both his palms up to rest on his knees, and again repeated her name, however slightly louder. An involuntary smile came to his lips as he noticed her eyelids flutter.

"Michaela… wake up… you're in the hospital… wake up…" His voice was non-threatening and distant. William knew enough to remain still, and merely tilted his head backwards slightly, as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dimly-lit room.

"It's all right… just take your time…" He saw her eyes roam over the right side of the room, as she timidly moved her head in the direction of the sound.

Michaela heard the voice once again, and sensed the familiarity, if not the precise identity, of the speaker. As she turned her head carefully to her left, she was calmed by the fact that the assortment of strangers at the foot of the bed earlier had vanished, however, this relief was short-lived, when she subconsciously matched the masculine voice with the individual sitting beside her.

"Don't be alarmed… there's nothing to worry about…" William responded immediately to the petrified look of dread which appeared on her face.

Michaela stared blankly in his direction for several moments, and suspiciously accepted his words, however still provided no outward indication of comprehension.

"We need to talk about what has happened… what has brought you here… Michaela… you need to explain why you took the Laudanum…" William kept his voice evenly-paced and deliberately did not move an inch as he continued to observe her numbed body language.

**X.O.X**

Dorothy had just swept a small pile of debris into the metal dustpan when the door of the mercantile opened across the room.

"Loren? Thought ya were upstairs readin'… where ya been, almost eight o'clock." She emptied the contents of the dustpan and turned in a slightly confrontational manner towards her brother-in-law who stepped through the front door.

"Aww, Dorothy… can't a man have a couple a drinks without havin' to explain himself to a woman…" The older man grumbled as he ambled slowly past her through the store.

"You're right. It's not my place to assume you're answerable to me…" Dorothy's reply was cutting.

"Now what you _should_ be askin' yaself… is why Jake's back over at Hank's again… thought we'd cleared up his drinkin' over a year ago… and thought with the two a you so… friendly… thought you were keepin' an eye on him?" Loren raised an eyebrow, his envy disguised through accusation.

"Jake's drinkin' again?" Her voice was sharp and unimpressed. Loren simply nodded as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Sure looks that way to me… downed a lot a whiskey accordin' to Hank… then said he was headin' back to his place to keep goin'… the fool… let's see him get through this now, without Dr. Mike around… I ain't savin' him this time… on his own." Loren rested his left hand on the banister, as he remembered the last time he'd helped to save Jake's life.

"Oh dear… as if we're not going to have enough to deal with…" Dorothy muttered as she idly straightened the front of the counter.

"What's that?" Loren frowned, slightly frustrated with the now-familiar routine Dorothy had; tempting him with gossip, only to refuse telling him.

"Oh… nothin'…" She removed the day's pile of _The Gazette_ from the countertop and carried them to the nearby wastebasket.

"Gettin' mighty sick a that, Dorothy… you actin' like there's some piece of important gossip I oughta know… then refusin' to tell me… always turns out to be nothin' in the end…" Loren took several tired steps up towards his room, before Dorothy's disheartened sigh tempted him enough to pause his movement.

"What now…?" His voice was deadpan with annoyance.

"Nothin'… Just… well… uh… hope Jake ain't drinkin' again is all…" Dorothy glanced around the sparsely stocked store.

"Don't give me that… you were talkin' about somethin' else… 'As if we ain't got enough to deal with' you said… what else goin' on 'round this place that I don't know about…?" Loren narrowed his eyes suspiciously; he was usually kept up-to-date with all the goings-on of the small town, and was concerned that he'd been left out of the loop on a new piece of gossip.

"Loren… said I wouldn't say nothin'… you'll find out soon enough… everyone will…" Dorothy sighed, her thoughts drifting to the scandal that was sure to ensure once Michaela returned.

"Well if I'm gonna find out anyway… what's the harm tellin' me now?" He shrugged, frustrated.

"It's just… ain't something that is talked about… somethin' women like to keep to themselves…" Dorothy saw the intrigued sparkle appear in Loren's eye as he leant over the thin banister.

"Aww, yeah? Women, eh?" He chuckled, quickly having arrived at several speculations.

"Now, Loren Bray… you just keep your thoughts to yourself… ya promise me…" Dorothy met eyes with him seriously, as she folded her arms across her chest, wishing she'd kept her mouth shut.

"Don't gotta tell me anymore… whole town already knows 'bout Myra… that ain't news…" Loren dismissed with a wave of his left hand.

"Myra?" Dorothy frowned, still distracted by her thoughts.

"Yeah… due in the spring… sure was quick, weren't it…" Loren trailed off with a smirk.

"For heaven's sake, Loren… didn't mean…" Dorothy clamped her mouth closed tightly, and frantically began smoothing out several folded shirts on the table beside her. "Yes… ah… Myra," she asserted deliberately.

"You mean there's another baby I don't know 'bout… Aww, Dorothy… come on… who is it?" Loren gripped the banister eagerly, an excited smile coming to his lips.

"Ain't sayin' nothin', Loren… weren't you wantin' to get to bed anyway?" She encouraged.

"Aww, who is it? Mrs. Avery… she's put on a bit a weight, lately… who else been wantin'… Grace and Robert E.?" Loren flashed an excited grin, being put off by the defensiveness he heard in Dorothy's response.

"No! Loren… I ain't tellin' ya… because… well… it's not… Some folks gonna think a single woman ought not to… oh… you'll just find out soon enough anyway!" She sighed angrily, and took several steps across the store, Loren's hushed conclusion stopping her dead in her tracks.

"Dorothy, this ain't another one of your…" His mouth tightened in immediate understanding. "Oh, _Dorothy_… please tell me you're not…" Loren turned and descended the stairs rapidly. He rushed across the room to reach her side.

"Me, Loren? Why on earth would you think, I…" She stopped abruptly, as Loren pulled away and ducked around behind the counter, his head appearing after several seconds, as did the large rifle held securely in his right hand.

"That explains it. You… actin' all coy and secretive... Jake… drinkin' again. Why I'm gonna give him somethin' to start drinkin' about I tell ya... Doin' something like this, not even havin' the decency to marry ya…" Loren strode purposefully around to the front of the counter.

"Oh, my God! Loren… wait… it's not what you…" Dorothy managed to catch his shoulder to stop him moving long enough to try and reason with him.

"Don't you go tryin' to stop me… you're not worried about your reputation then… hold on…" Loren paused, the events of the last year catching up with him. "Back last year… when you were poorly… Dr. Mike had to operate on ya… said you were… ya know… goin' through that… ah…" His voice faded with embarrassment, still affected by gentlemanly pride.

"Exactly, Loren. It ain't _me_ who's havin' the baby…" Dorothy raised a single eyebrow, as she dropped her hand from his shoulder.

"Well then…" He slipped the rifle back under the counter and turned back towards the stairs, however his mind was still reeling. "But you said… it was someone who ain't married… And there ain't no-one in town we're that close to that ain't… 'cept you… and… Olive is gettin' on in years… and… Dr. Mike ain't even here… Doctor… _Dr. Mike?… Dorothy?" _Loren's voice was strained, almost pleading for her to rebuke his suggestion.

The downcast look which greeted him, served only to confirm his conjecture.

"But how…?" Loren felt the empty word leave his lips, said more to convey his shock than in expectation of a reply.

"_Loren_…" Dorothy scolded, as the older man's jaw dropped, his eyes vacant and sad.

"Oh…" Came Loren's deflected murmur of understanding, "… guess that explains a lot…" He lowered his head; Dorothy remained cold to the darker reality of the situation.

"Sully and the children gone to bring her home… you gotta keep it to yourself, Loren… don't none of the townsmen know yet… and I know you and Michaela been closer since… know you've been tryin' to look out for her and all… the day of the auction… she really appreciated your support, Loren… been like a father to her… Everyone's gonna find out sooner or later…" They both turned around and paced slowly towards the stairs.

"You sure about this, Dorothy…? Ain't the type a thing you'd wanna get wrong…" His voice was low; he wished Dorothy had confused the situation somehow.

"I ain't wrong, Loren. Got it from Olive, this morning… Colleen told her the day Michaela left…" The pair began climbing the stairs.

"Seems like such a shame is all… She was tryin' so hard to put it all behind her… everyone was…" Loren's face remained dropped and hollow.

"I know, but we gotta think positive Loren… still her own flesh and blood… that's what counts…" Dorothy followed her brother-in-law up the stairs, and each moved towards their respective bedrooms.

"Guess… ain't gonna seem like it though…" He hovered in the doorway, shattered by the revelation.

"Well, we got to show her it is. Far as I'm concerned, that's Michaela's baby… and we gotta just act as if it were anyone else… just like we are with Myra…" Dorothy nodded her head defiantly.

"I don't know 'bout that… gonna be hard… forgettin'…" Loren could still hear the sound of gunfire, as he swung open his bedroom door; it was as loud then, as it had been on that day. He wished he didn't have those memories.

"It's _her _baby, ya hear me…" Dorothy reiterated; her voice deep and forceful.

"Yeah… right… See you in the mornin'…" The old man let out a discouraged sigh, as he shuffled tiredly into his bedroom. He felt as if he was losing another daughter all over again.

**X.O.X**

"We need to talk about what has happened… what has brought you here… Michaela… you need to explain why you took the Laudanum…" She felt the sleepiness fade slightly as she attempted to rebuild the fragments of the events which had taken place earlier. Michaela studied the man's deep blue eyes, as her own gaze shifted nervously in response to two words: _Michaela; Laudanum._

"Can't you at least explain that much… we don't have to talk about anything else at this stage," William continued, however, was very aware of the silence that had existed between each of his questions.

She pulled her eyes away from his in a mixture of guilt and humiliation; she couldn't look at him; she couldn't look at anyone. As she swallowed in a half-hearted attempt to moisten her dry mouth, Michaela dropped her attention down to the white bandage that remained firmly secured around her left wrist.

She heard and interpreted his words perfectly; that was not what prevented her from replying. Michaela kept her gaze lowered, her eyes fixed on the impression of the restraint around her left wrist. William followed the direction of her questioning expression, before he hesitantly offered an explanation.

"Michaela… the other doctors… are under the impression that you were trying to hurt yourself. Is that the case?" William's voice cracked slightly on his final word, as he took in the naivety and childlike fear in her guarded glare.

Her reaction was delayed whilst she discerned the meaning of his question. Michaela turned her chin ever-so-slightly to the left, her head now at a very faint angle, as she struggled to decide whether or not to respond to his inquiry.

"Look at me. You weren't trying to harm yourself, were you…" William stated bluntly, the directness in his tone enough to catch Michaela's attention.

She felt the force of his words conveyed through the sensation of his breath as it animated several strands of hair just in front of her right ear.

William's eyes narrowed as he noticed the tip of her chin move almost undetectably.

"Were you…" He repeated the two words; the flatness of his voice had removed any trace of question.

Michaela continued to read his expression, the seriousness of the situation confirmed by his widened eyes, and frozen face. She understood what he was asking, and, without even letting her eyes leave his, moved her head in objection.

"Then… we need to clear up one more matter. Are you ill?" William drew his hands together, until his elbows rested on his knees, to reflect his emotional relief.

Again Michaela shook her head to the contrary, and her eyes looked back towards the bed.

"Then… you were trying to harm your child…" William deduced with a sigh of unfathomable disappointment.

Michaela did not miss the swift deflection of disapproval that filled his eyes, despite William's attempt to conceal his opinion by severing the eye contact. She felt her cheeks tingle and inhaled sharply; she wanted to defend her actions, however knew no defense was plausible.

"Michaela…?" He heard her gasped breath, and turned back to face her, as his expression pleaded for verbal response.

Her eyes squinted closed slightly and she turned her head, before nodding several small times in affirmation to his previous question.

William looked down to notice Michaela clench her left hand closed once again, and suspected that pressuring her to talk further would only prove fruitless.

"Here…" He slowly moved his right hand forwards to grip her left wrist, "… I don't claim to know what has brought you here…" he delicately began to untie the tightly knotted material from her wrists. His voice remained calm, "… however… I need you to be aware… that… unless… you can promise me that you will not attempt any further unacceptable behavior…" he freed her left wrist from the restraint, and paused to complete his stern, yet compassionate warning, "… then you will be forced to stay here… I need to know I can trust you… if you want me to help you…" William's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper.

Michaela sensed the physical contact against her exposed skin, and protectively drew her arm up to her chest the moment she felt her freedom of movement return.

"You know I want to help…" William paced very deliberately along the side of the bed, until he arrived by Michaela's right arm, and again reached for the material restraint. "There now, stay calm…" William let the untied bandage drop back to the edge of the bed, fascinated by the attention Michaela paid to the very faint pressure marks around both of her wrists.

The sound of his leather shoes against the floor filled the room, as William arrived back to the left side of the bed and took his seat, his chin rested in his clasped hands. "Michaela… if I am unable to establish the reason behind your actions… then I fail to see how I can make any assurances to Dr. Hodge regarding your safety… You need to help me… _help_ me help you… please." He rubbed his fingertips along his jaw line as he intently focused on her isolated gaze.

"I am sorry, however… given the severity of the situation you are in… I feel unnecessary tact is not in anyone's best interest…" He glanced back up into her large, soulless eyes. "Michaela… I know… you would not do something like this… and I know that for whatever reason, that… if you have… Michaela… I'm sorry for my candor…" William tore his gaze from her. He could not bear to see the fear in her eyes as he asked her the one question he dreaded.

"Michaela… did somebody hurt you?" The words fell regrettably from his lips, however as they did, William realized he would need to turn back to face her, if any response was to be obtained.


	70. Chapter 70

**Chapter 70**

William moved his right hand to his jaw, and cupped it just in front of his mouth, as he waited for a reply.

"Michaela… you need to tell me the truth…" He saw her chin quiver at the familial use of her Christian name once again. "Were you hurt?" The words left his mouth easier the second time.

She dropped her eyelids closed, and brought her head downwards, unable to withstand his reserved look of pity.

William allowed his final question to linger in the empty silence between them, as he had received the answer he feared through her severed eye contact alone. He considered that Michaela might be about to verbally confirm his suspicions, as he noticed the corners of her mouth twitch almost imperceptibly.

She felt his gaze on her through the darkness of her closed eyes. She loathed it. The tingling sensation returned to her cheeks, as she felt her chin tremble involuntarily once again. _Stop it. He just feels sorry for you._

Michaela kept her gaze on the pale blue quilt below her, as she tentatively fluttered her eyes open, and indicated her response with a weak nod.

_Now he knows. Now they will all know. You have shamed yourself, Michaela. You've brought this dishonor all the way home with you. You never should have come here. Nothing can ever be the same now._

William saw the small gesture of affirmation, and felt his left hand grow clammy against his knee. "Thank-you…" He phrased the words strangely, not knowing where they had come from. "I… I don't know what help I can be, Michaela… however… I can do my best to see that you're released from here… I can make some enquires… see if there's not somewhere," He turned his head, momentarily distracted by a commotion from the corridor.

"I'm sorry. Michaela… I need to know. Did you come here to try and end this pregnancy?" William received an affirmative nod far quicker this time, and decided to continue with his reluctant personal line of questioning. "… who… did this to you?" William's voice was defensive and empty. He dropped his right hand from his face, and leaned ever-so-slightly closer to the side of the bed, hopeful of a verbal response.

Michaela heard the tenderness in his voice, as she struggled with the voices within her head which pleaded with her to speak. Her eyes darted nervously from his face, as she battled against the argument being fought out within her mind.

_Be quiet. Don't you dare say one word, Michaela. Every choice you've made has ended in disaster. Stop now, before you just make matters even worse for yourself._ She lowered her head further, and frowned as she tried to rationalize with the voices in her head. _But… he said he would help me… I'm tired of deceiving people… I'm tired of being strong. _Still the banter continued; _Telling anyone of this scandal will not improve anything, Michaela. It will only disgrace you further. And now that you are here, it will only ruin your father's name and reputation. There is nothing anyone will do for you now. You must face it, Michaela; you will be having this child._

She was pulled from her troubled thoughts by the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. Without choosing so, Michaela recoiled sharply from the physical contact and rolled onto her right side. Along with the defensive gasp which leapt from her throat, Michaela felt the trapped tears spill from her eyes, and drew her clasped hands tighter against her upper body.

"I… forgive me, I…" William sighed, with indescribable regret, however neither person had time to linger on his foolish gesture, as the door across the room flew open, and raised voices of protest were heard from the corridor.

"Mother, no!" Rebecca arrived in the partially opened doorway to pull back forcefully on her mother's left arm. Brian had managed to squeeze into the gap between them, still overly excited by his Grandmother's unexpected arrival minutes earlier.

"Mrs.… Mrs. Quinn…" William spluttered, as he rose immediately to his feet and crossed the room.

"What on earth is going on in here… Michaela?" Elizabeth gripped the edges of her large, layered skirt, still somewhat out of breath from her hasty entrance.

Michaela felt the blood-chilling fear hit her chest in a heartbeat, the older woman's impossibly curt and crisp words confirming her identity, without Michaela having to open her eyes. Still turned on her right side, Michaela was able to keep her eyes firmly shut, and could only beg with every muscle of her being that her mother would fall for her pretense.

_No. Please God, no. Please… please make her leave… please don't let her find out… please…_

She felt the silent prayer willed from her heart; able to picture her mother's astounded expression from the tone of her voice alone. _I swear… I'll do anything… I'll… just please don't let Mother find out… _Michaela focused her efforts on regulating her breathing, feeling the air being pushed in and out of her lungs as she continued to feign sleep.

"Michaela…?" Elizabeth approached the bed, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. The telegram she had received earlier that evening had been succinct, and it wasn't until the elderly woman saw her youngest daughter before her, that she truly believed the contents of the message.

"Ah… Mrs. Quinn… Michaela, ah… needs to rest… perhaps… perhaps we might all wait outside…" William attempted to usher the feisty woman towards the door, both Rebecca and Brian peering into the room with mixed expressions of alarm and excitement respectively.

"I don't understand. What is she doing here? What's wrong with her?" Elizabeth turned back to meet her youngest grandson's eyes. The small boy's face animated eagerly as he blurted out the first explanation that came to mind.

"Ma's havin' a ba…" The child felt his aunt's right hand secure fiercely around his mouth, as she interjected with a high-pitched voice.

"A… a _bad fall_, Mother… Michaela, ah…" Rebecca cleared her throat and continued, "… she is here… for a…" the oldest Quinn daughter glared up at the physician for assistance.

"A medical conference… and…" William too was lost for words, however Rebecca had by that stage recovered from her panic.

"…and… she fell… at the hotel… She was unconscious, and so she was brought here… I promise you, Mother, I had no idea she was here either…" Rebecca hesitantly let her hand drop from Brian's mouth, the young child glaring up at her in worried confusion.

"I see," Elizabeth replied slowly, as she turned back to look her daughter up and down once more.

"That is correct, yes… however… there's no damage done… she'll be fit to be released tomorrow…" William frowned, noticing Michaela's left hand move ever-so-slightly.

"Oh… well then they can stay with me… that will be perfect, I've organized a supper tomorrow evening, and…" Elizabeth enthusiastically began making plans, not expecting her oldest daughter to oppose her quite so forcefully.

"No. I… ah… I'm sorry, Mother… Michaela and Brian will be… staying with me… it has… been arranged…" Rebecca wrung her hands out as she anticipated her mother's objection.

"Don't be ridiculous… My house is far larger than yours… and with Edmund… and the children… you've not the room…" Elizabeth dismissed with a disregarding sigh of contempt.

Rebecca drew a determined breath, "I _said_ they will be staying with _me_, Mother… There shall be no discussion." Rebecca felt her voice waver, aware that never in her life had she been so direct, however knew the alternative was catastrophic.

William felt his jaw tighten as he watched the unmitigated glare of disbelief sweep across Elizabeth's face.

"Well. I certainly know where I stand," she defended, her nasty tone being utilized solely to shield the hurt she felt at such rejection. "I… trust I shall at least be seeing you tomorrow evening… for supper as arranged?" Elizabeth queried hastily, the humiliation of having her hospitality so rudely turned down melted away any genuine joy she might have otherwise felt regarding her youngest daughter's unexpected presence.

"I… of course, Mother…" Rebecca finished succinctly, everyone in the room remaining quiet whilst the elderly woman slipped back through the doorway and disappeared without a single word of farewell.

Brian was the first to break the silence, "Aunt Rebecca… is Grandma mad?" He turned back to stare up at his aunt, after having watched Elizabeth hurry away down the corridor.

"I… no, sweetheart. She just wasn't expecting to see you, that's all…" Rebecca rubbed the child's back soothingly.

Michaela tentatively opened her eyes, and turned her head to her left, scanning the room without a sound.

"It's all right… she's gone, Michaela…" William reassured, however was still preoccupied by Michaela's troubling disclosure.

"Ma!" Brian pulled away quickly from Rebecca's side, and bounded across the room.

"Brian…" Rebecca disciplined automatically, as William raised his left hand to interrupt her.

"Perhaps we might talk outside briefly, Mrs. Dickenson?" He watched the small boy perch by his mother's side on the edge of the bed. Michaela did not seem bothered by the child's presence, and posed no resistance when he gripped her left hand securely.

"Of course…" Rebecca noticed the redness of her sister's face, along with her dried tears, as she stepped back out into the corridor with the physician.

William closed the door gently behind them, Rebecca immediately muttered an apology. "I truly am sorry about Mother… I had no idea she even knew Michaela was here… apparently, she received a telegram… that Michaela had taken ill…" Rebecca explained hastily.

"That's quite all right, no harm has been done." He cleared his throat and searched for the most appropriate words. "I… I was able to speak with your sister… somewhat… and, I'm afraid your suspicions were confirmed…" William saw Rebecca's face shatter with the confirmation.

"Somebody… hurt her? I, I don't understand; why didn't she tell me? Why didn't she come home sooner? I could have… I would have done anything for her…" her voice was strained and emotional.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Dickenson… I wish there was something I could do…" William became momentarily lost in his thoughts, however quickly continued updating her. "Michaela confirmed her pregnancy… however… and I must stress that we keep this to ourselves… she also informed me that this overdose was in an attempt to end the pregnancy prematurely… now… this needs to be kept in the strictest confidence, as you are aware of the laws which forbid such actions… I will need to… be selective in my explanation to the other doctors, if we've a chance of getting her released… I will be informing them, that, as a physician, she administered the Laudanum in an attempt to prevent premature labor, and that she simply, in understandable panic, administered a dose larger than was suitable, given her size. I think it wise Michaela stay in tonight for further observation… however, if you're willing… you may take her home tomorrow… you'll… need to keep a close eye on her, however… she's still very upset…" William concluded, and clasped his hands in front of him as Rebecca took in the information.

"I will, Dr. Burke, thank-you… I don't know what we would have done without you… Is there… I… I don't think I know what to say to her… Is there anything I should do, I mean…" Rebecca drew several breaths in an attempt to calm herself.

"Don't you worry… I'll drop by tomorrow evening… to check on her… Michaela still isn't talking… and I wouldn't force her to just yet. We still don't really know what she's been through. It's best to wait. Give her time to calm down, to realize she's safe." He soothed, as he rested his right hand softly on her shoulder.

"Yes, you're right, Doctor… I still can't believe this… did she… say how? Did she say who did this to her?" Rebecca felt her mouth dry at the very comprehension.

"No. She wouldn't tell me. It might take awhile, Mrs. Dickenson. You just need to get her home… get her settled. Once she feels secure… that she is among family, I'm sure she will talk to you," William reassured, and turned back to open the door. A smile came to both the adults' faces when they saw Brian nestled against Michaela's left side, his fingers intertwined with hers.

"And then… Barney got the doctor… and he said we had to take you to the hospital…" Brian looked up as the door opened, his mood much more elevated since he'd been able to see his mother.

"Come along, sweetheart… time for Michaela to get some rest…" Rebecca extended her right hand, as Brian slipped off the bed and looked back towards his mother.

"But, I… where am I going?" He frowned, his eyes darting between his mother and aunt for several moments.

"You're going to spend the night at my place, sweetheart… your mother will be coming home tomorrow… all right?" Rebecca watched discomfort play across the child's face.

"But I… can't I stay here?" He gestured back to his mother, his voice slightly elevated.

"Not tonight, Brian… come along… Penelope's waiting at home… you remember her, don't you? Rebecca smiled softly as the small boy lent back across the bed to embrace his mother.

"Night Ma…" He chewed on his lower lip for several moments, hopeful of a verbal reply. When none came, Brian dropped his head, and turned back towards his aunt and William.

"You'll see her tomorrow, son…" William reassured, as the boy paced back slowly to the doorway. Rebecca took his hand and met eyes with William.

"Thank-you once again, Dr. Burke… See you tomorrow…" Her eyes drifted back to her younger sister. She barely recognized her through the blankness in her expression and the emptiness in her eyes. "Sleep well, Michaela… we'll take you home tomorrow…" Rebecca blinked several times, still hopeful of a response. When none came, she patted Brian warmly on the shoulders, and directed him out into the corridor. The pair left without another word.

William waited until their footsteps were heard in the long corridor, before he crossed the room, and gingerly reached for Michaela's wrist to check her pulse.

"I'll sort everything out with Dr. Hodge, but Michaela… you need to promise me that nothing like this will happen again. Or there won't be anything I can do to help you…" He gently placed her wrist back down on the bed, and moved to update her chart.

"Will you give me some indication… Michaela?" He looked up to see her nod weakly.

"Very well. Now… I'll be informing Dr. Hodge that you believed yourself to be in premature labor, and subsequently took the Laudanum, to prevent further contractions… he'll believe that it could have been a foolish, albeit, honest mistake… and you'll be discharged tomorrow. I'll stop by and check on you tomorrow evening…" He scribbled some notes on the dull, off-white paper. As he closed the brown chart, his expression of bewilderment mixed with shock lingered. "Try and rest, Michaela…" He shook his head several times worriedly, and quietly left the room.

**X.O.X**

Brian rolled over onto his back, and looked up at the ceiling of the large, elegantly furnished room. He couldn't sleep. Miserably, he pushed back the heavy quilt and crawled to the edge of the double bed. The young boy padded silently across the room, his bare feet cold against the floorboards. He opened the wooden door, and paced down the first flight of stairs, the voices from the floor below growing steadily louder which each step.

"I don't know, Edmund! I've already told you… it happened so suddenly!" Brian recognized his aunt's voice immediately, and froze; he knew the sound of adults arguing.

"Rebecca, this is just scandalous! I can't believe you allowed yourself to become involved in something so… disreputable… without sending for me…" Edmund Dickenson, although a well-intentioned man of fine moral fiber and loyalty, had found his wife's news of great concern.

"She is my sister! What would you have had me do… ignore her… and little Brian… I can't believe you! Where is your sense… of… of family… of compassion!" Rebecca brought her hands to her hips, never having raised her voice in front of her husband until now.

"Don't you dare presume to question my character. I simply wish I had been consulted, rather than informed that we'd be exposing our children… to…" Edmund couldn't find the word he was after, Rebecca, however, was able to deduce his meaning from the look of contempt plastered across his face.

"How dare you talk about my own sister… like some… I can't even finish. I_ told_ you what the doctor said, did I not? She needs us, Edmund. Please, don't make this more difficult than it already is…" Rebecca softened her voice, and dropped her arms either side of herself.

"I know… I'm sorry, dear… But… for the sake of the children… might… might we not make her condition public… Edmund Jr. won't understand the sensitivities of the situation… and Penny will just be confused…" He carefully began unfastening his necktie, wanting to end the conversation as soon as possible.

"Fine… I'm sure it will only be for a few weeks, Edmund… and I do appreciate your support…" Rebecca leant forwards to kiss her husband softly on the cheek.

"Are we still going for supper at your mother's tomorrow evening…" He crossed the room, tired from a long day at work.

"Yes. I think we need to… it will seem too conspicuous if we are absent," Rebecca replied, as Edmund nodded and headed towards the staircase.

Brian swiftly recommenced his descent, so as not to be accused of eavesdropping. He saw his uncle's surprised glare as he looked up towards the first floor. "Weren't you in bed, young man?" Edmund spoke sternly, although his face softened at the sight of the child in his son's large-fitting night attire.

"I… I couldn't sleep, sir…" Brian hung his head, not moving until he heard his aunt's soft voice.

"Oh, sweetheart… I'm sorry… I should have checked on you sooner… come down here…" She beckoned warmly, the child obeyed immediately, as his uncle passed him hastily on the stairs.

Brian arrived in the sitting room, looking from the cozy fire to his aunt's open arms.

"Why don't we sit for awhile, Brian… it has been a difficult day for you, hasn't it?" She gestured towards the velvet settee, and both made themselves comfortable.

"Been scary…" He paused, deep in thought. "Aunt Rebecca… is… how come everyone's mad at Ma… Colleen… the doctors… Uncle Edmund… she do somethin' bad?" He frowned, as Rebecca secured her arms tightly around his small shoulders.

"No, angel… don't you think that… everything will be all right, Brian…" She pressed his head against her shoulder, waiting until the small boy had relaxed into her embrace. "Brian… is your room comfortable? Or were you just not tired, yet?" She queried, watching the flames flicker in the large fire before them.

"It ain't that… just… well…" He tried to ignore the feelings of childishness that crept up on him. "I… I ain't been away from Ma since she got taken… and then when I had all the bad dreams… she used to let me sleep with her… just got worried… what if I have a nightmare and I can't check that she's all right?" Brian sighed, comforted by the familiar feeling of his aunt's fingers as they ran through his fine hair.

"Ssh, Brian… Michaela is perfectly safe in the hospital… and she'll be coming home with us tomorrow…" She felt the child's head press snugly against her chest.

"Aunt Rebecca… can ya sing me a lullaby… Ma does that when I can't sleep…" He glanced up at her hopefully, as her hand rested against his back.

"Sweetheart… I… I don't think I know any…" Rebecca looked down at the miserable expression on the boy's face.

"Well, what about a story? Can you tell me a story about when you and Ma were little… did she ever get into trouble? She told me about the time Aunt Marjorie cut her hair… did Ma ever do anything bad like what Aunt Marjorie did to her?" His eyes widened in intrigue.

"Oh my…" She chuckled lightly, "I'd almost forgotten about that, Brian… Let me think… Michaela used to get into trouble quite a lot… but really only from Mother, when she tried to get out of dress shopping… although… there was one time… it was just before I was married… Michaela would have been about twelve, I suppose…" Rebecca paused as the young boy slipped his hand around her back and pressed up warmly against her. "She was always reading… or doing her schoolwork… but on this particular day, she was late coming down for supper. Father was rather angry, because he needed to be back at the hospital, and she was keeping everyone waiting… when she finally did appear at the dinner table… we all began eating, but Michaela didn't say a word…" Rebecca looked down as Brian contributed to the story.

"Ma didn't say a word? The whole time?" His eyebrows raised in intrigue.

"It wasn't until we were finishing dessert and Father reached over to see if she had a fever because she was so quiet… and he hadn't seen her eat any supper… Maureen and Claudette started giggling, and Mother pried it out of them, that Michaela had secretly snuck food from her plate… and carefully hidden it in the pockets of her pinafore. Of course she denied it… until mother threatened to send her to her room for a week, and she ran off… even with Father bellowing at her, and he'd never yelled at her, her entire life, she still wouldn't return to the table." Rebecca paused as Brian once again spoke up.

"So she got into trouble? Coz she didn't do what she was told…?" He clasped his hands in his lap, having found the story very comforting.

"She would have been in a lot of trouble… had Father not very quietly followed after her… he trailed along behind her… all the way through to the garden and into the cellar… where… he found her feeding a mother cat and its kitten who had just been born… the mother cat had been injured in a fight… and hid under the house. Michaela had found her… and helped her deliver her kitten… by the time Father found out, it was too late… the mother cat was too weak, and died… there was nothing Father could do to save it… Michaela cried for days… but then… she realized that the kitten needed her… and that… sometimes things happen… and there's nothing we can do about it." Brian, still captivated by the story, blinked several times, before he responded.

"So Grandpa weren't mad at her for sneaking the food then… because she was tryin' to help the sick cat…" Rebecca nodded and the child continued, "… and did Ma get to keep the kitten…?"

"Mother was furious, because she thinks animals are unclean… however, Father put his foot down… and Michaela was allowed to keep the kitten…" She frowned, and narrowed her eyes slightly, "I just can't remember what she called it… you'll have to ask her, sweetheart… oh that poor little kitten… she used to wrap it up in blankets, and pretend to bandage its feet… it's a wonder it never scratched her…" Rebecca reminisced contently, until Brian crossed his legs and let his eyes slowly flutter closed.

"That's Ma… she fixed up my deer for me… Byron… and then we had to let it go, coz Ma said it was mean to keep him tied up in the barn… Aunt Rebecca… Ma gonna get better once she comes home?" His voiced was hushed and sincere.

"What do you mean, Brian? Dr. Burke said she's fine…" She frowned, meeting eyes with the boy.

"But she ain't fine... she's not like herself… she yelled at me… really scared me… don't even think she likes me anymore…" He looked back towards the fire, as he sniffled back tears.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I wish I'd known what had happened… But you can stay with us, as long as you need to… and… it will be all right, Brian… you'll see…" Rebecca neatened up a loose strand of blond hair on the child's head.

"How can it be all right, though? If Ma doesn't want to go home… what about Colleen and Matthew? They'll get worried us being gone so long…" Brian drew a worried breath.

"They don't know you've gone, Brian?" She secured her arms around his shoulders once again.

"No… neither does Sully… I woulda thought… once she saw the doctor… we could be goin' home again… but now… everything's all messed up… just want everything to go back to normal… instead of Ma all upset… and everyone hatin' the Indians… and Sully and Matthew fightin'… and… just all wrong…" He bit down hard on his lower lip, but could still feel the frightened tears well up in his eyes.

"Brian… I… I don't understand… tell me about your birthday… when you said Michaela was… away…" She couldn't bring herself to even say the word.

"Was just before my birthday… started with all this fightin' between the Indians and the army… they were killin' people… and Matthew said there was gonna be a big war between them… because the dog soldiers took Ma…" Rebecca frowned and interrupted the child.

"Dog soldiers? I don't understand… is that the army?" She voiced her confusion.

"No… they're the bad Indians… the ones that kill people. They ride around and shoot things… Even came into town… started fires," He remembered the frightening raids vividly. "Sully wouldn't tell me why the dog soldiers kidnapped Ma… just said that they were bad Indians. Then the army held Cloud Dancing and all the other Indians prisoner and said that they wouldn't release 'em until they got Ma back… but it didn't work… and so Sully went to try and get her back, but he got hurt and nearly died… and then when he didn't get back, all the men went out to find them… and then, on my birthday, they got Ma back… coz I prayed to God to ask him to get her back, so he did…" Brian raised his right hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "…'cept she was real sick… and the doctor had to come to make her better. Then when she got well, we went home… The kids were real mean at school, sayin' bad things about Ma… and teasin' Colleen and me… but the Reverend fixed them, and things were real good for ages, kinda like how they used to be… until Ma started gettin' angry with me… and wouldn't play checkers with me or read to me, or nothin'… and then… she said we're comin' here…" He shrugged, before he turned back to his aunt for a reply, confused by the morose expression on her frozen face. "Aunt Rebecca? Honest… it's the truth…" He stumbled awkwardly, and was unaware of the enormity of his statement.

"It's… it's all right, sweetheart… I know you wouldn't say something that wasn't true…" She fidgeted with the collar of his nightshirt for several moments, still grappling with the specifics of the child's conversation.

"Then how come ya face went all white? Coz ya worried 'bout Ma?" He lowered his head miserably.

"Yes, Brian… how… how about going back up to bed now?" She dropped her arms from the child's back, and gestured for him to get to his feet.

"I… guess so… Aunt Rebecca?… Are we gonna stay with you until the baby's born?" He pulled himself up and waited for his aunt to do likewise.

"I don't know, Brian… that's up to Michaela… come along… off to bed…" She tapped him on the shoulder lightly, and watched as the child nodded and departed obediently from the room.

She turned back to gaze for several minutes into the flickering fire, Brian's naïve words having filled in the missing pieces in her mind, all too clearly. She could hear the child's footsteps upon the stairs, as she watched the flames dance between logs of wood; Michaela's actions were understandable now.

She'd never been out west, only read, and heard her mother's albeit biased criticisms. Although she would never be able to fully appreciate what her sister's life had become, she knew it was not the guarded, protected life she had once lived.

Rebecca thought back to some of Michaela's letters. She'd mentioned working with the Indians, she'd mentioned several by name, whom she had described as friends. Rebecca shook her head hopelessly, also aware of what was regarded 'common' knowledge in Boston. Indians were savages, cannibals, barely even human… Even though she knew this was not how her sister felt, Rebecca struggled to make peace with the child's disclosure.

Fresh tears ran from her eyes; how _dare_ somebody do this. The images in her mind alone, caused her to feel ill. She knew now why her sister had kept so much hidden from the family.

Rebecca drew her hands to her face, as she struggled to accept the reality that had fallen into place. Everything made sense now. And if the unthinkable was in fact a reality, Rebecca knew she would do everything in her power to support her sister.

That somehow, they would deal with this, as a family.

Rebecca also knew vehemently, that this was one scandal her mother would never survive. In that heartbeat, the eldest Quinn child knew with all certainty that there would be one secret she would be keeping from her mother her entire life. Elizabeth Quinn would never endure the horrors of Brian's recount. As much as she loved her mother, she loved her sister more; and she knew in that instant, that if Elizabeth were to discover their secret, Rebecca would be forced to choose between them. She also knew in that moment, if forced, which choice she would make.

**X.O.X**

**Saturday, 9****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"What's there to do 'round here, then?" Brian stuffed his hands into his pockets, and turned to the small, redheaded young girl who had clasped her hands delicately against her pale pink dress.

"How do you mean? After lunch, I usually read, or play in my room… sometimes Mother teaches me sewing." Penelope stated crisply, and although delighted at having someone her own age to socialize with, was unaware of how bored Brian had been that morning.

"Don't ya ever go outside… and play… like ball… or… ride horses or… nothin' fun?" Brian leant against the wooden banister, and felt the tights begin to itch his legs.

"Outside? Sometimes we go on a picnic… and I have my riding lesson every Thursday after school. What would you like to do then… you _are_ the guest." She shrugged her shoulders with a friendly smile.

"I… I dunno… if I were at home… we'd go ridin', or Sully'd take us fishin', or swimmin'… all sorts a stuff… what about… can we play checkers?" Brian's face brightened momentarily, as Penelope considered the suggestion.

"I guess so… I've never played… Edmund plays with his friends…" She muttered, and paced across the large entrance hall into the sitting room to locate the game.

"You mean you don't know how? That's easy, I'll teach ya… been playin' for years. Can beat everyone except Matthew… you remember my brother Matthew, don't ya?" The young girl searched around the precisely tidied room, as Brian kept chattering away.

"Sure… he and Edmund got into a big fight… and Father scolded him for days…" She looked up at the sound of a knock at the front door.

"Ain't you gettin' it?" Brian scurried across the room eagerly; however Penelope's frown of disapproval slowed his pace.

"No. Ellen always answers the door. That's the rules." The ten year-old girl asserted very clearly. Brian had come to his own conclusion.

"It's Ma… come on… Ma's back!" He lost interest immediately in the planned checkers game, and raced into the entrance hall. Ellen, the middle-aged maid, shooed him back as she answered the door.

Brian clung to the edge of the staircase, as Rebecca arrived into the hallway, and showed both William and Michaela inside.

"Ma!" Brian pushed away from the banister and was about to rush to his mother's side, when Rebecca pulled lightly on his left arm, to hold him by her side.

"But I…" He frowned, however, was quickly overlooked by the adults as they launched into conversation.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Dickenson…" William removed the top hat from his head, and with a small smile, watched as Rebecca awkwardly embraced her youngest sister.

"Thank-you, Dr. Burke… for everything…" Rebecca murmured sincerely, slightly concerned by Michaela's continued silence.

"Quite all right… I'll leave you to get her settled…" He glanced over at Michaela long enough for Rebecca to take the hint and gesture for Ellen to take Michaela upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms.

"Come on, Ma… Aunt Rebecca's house is real big, like Grandma's… and my room's got all these fancy pictures and my own bathroom… I'll show ya!" Brian tugged on Michaela's right hand, as she noiselessly followed behind the chambermaid and the young boy, and was led up the stairs and out of sight.

"Penny, take Brian, go and play for awhile, sweetheart…" Rebecca dismissed her inquisitive daughter, who frowned, and looked up towards the stairs.

"Mother… is Aunt Michaela all right? She's not… like she was last time… she's… _quiet_…" The red-headed ten year-old observed precociously.

"Hush, child. Upstairs," Rebecca ordered. The young girl obeyed her mother instantly this time, and also disappeared up the stairs and onto the landing.

"I do apologize, Dr. Burke…" Rebecca shook her head. "Is everything all right?" She enquired with concern.

"Physically, yes… The overdose doesn't appear to have had any ill-effects… however… she's not the same person I knew a year ago…" William kept his voice low and serious.

"No, I…" Rebecca paused immediately, suddenly realizing that to simply blurt out the specifics of Brian's disclosure from the previous evening would be less than appropriate. There were some things that even friends did not need to know. She sighed, and cringed with the reminder, however, brushed over the topic suitably: "I can't begin to imagine what she's going through… I'll… stay with her… talk to her… perhaps in time…" Rebecca glanced back towards the stairs hopefully.

"I'll stop by again tomorrow… although I trust you will send for me if there are any further problems…" William placed his hat back softly on his head, and turned towards the large front door.

"Of course… is there anything…" Rebecca stopped, as William remembered the items in his left hand.

"Here… for what it's worth…" He smiled weakly, as he delicately passed Michaela's medical bag into her sister's hands.

"Thank-you… is it…?" Rebecca stumbled, however William knew what she was thinking.

"There's nothing she can harm herself with… she probably didn't even notice it was gone. I also contacted the hotel last night… gave them your address, and they'll be dropping by the rest of their luggage this afternoon." William opened the door and both glanced out onto the busy street.

"I can't thank you enough…" Rebecca squeezed his arm with a sincere smile.

"It's not necessary. I'll… see you tomorrow…" William stepped outside, and strode professionally towards the waiting buggy.

Rebecca waited for several moments, before she closed the door and paced slowly towards the stairs. As she began the long ascent, she brought her right hand to her cheeks, to weakly dab at the moisture, which had collected under her eyes.

She had to be strong.


	71. Chapter 71

**Chapter 71**

"I… I can't stand this… I'm all cramped… and…" Colleen felt her brother grasp her arm tightly.

"Will you just stop whinin'… we're all cramped… and tired… Only gonna be another twelve hours… and we'll be in Denver…" Matthew's voice was equally strained, although he tried to be mature.

"And then… still got a train trip…" Colleen retorted, pulling out her crumpled skirt from under her.

"Won't be too bad, can get the train straight from Denver to Boston… at least we don't have to stop in St. Louis like last time… saves half a day… 'sides… stop thinkin' a yourself all the time…" Matthew moved over towards Sully, who remained soundly asleep, giving Colleen more space.

"I'm sorry… I know… Just worried…" Colleen sighed, glancing out over the sparse countryside.

"It's all right… we all are…" Matthew brought his arm up to rub her right shoulder warmly.

"Even when we get there… what makes Sully so sure she'll wanna come home… Ain't so sure I would…" Colleen drew a tired breath, and turned back to her brother for a response.

"I don't know, Colleen… I haven't got the answers…" He lowered his head, his reply honest.

**X.O.X**

Michaela habitually reached for the edge of her skirt as she began the steady climb to the top of the staircase. She heard the high-pitched chatter of voices behind her, and noticed as they faded away with each step she took.

"Ma… ya gotta come see my room, after… then I'll show you around… they've got a library, right in the house… and… this big fancy meeting room…" Brian felt his young cousin grasp the back of his jacket and turned as he continued climbing backwards up the stairs.

"What you want?" Brian groused, annoyed that Penny had taken his attention away from his mother.

"Mother says we have to go play… I think the checkers are in Edmund's room… come along…" she ordered stubbornly, and pulled Brian to the left once they had arrived at the top of the stairs.

"But, Ma's…" He frowned, as Michaela and Ellen continued down the hallway away from them.

"I _said_ come along… you're such a baby sometimes…" Penelope tugged on his arm harder, and the two children went in search of the game.

Ellen moved slowly down the long passage, the silence between them almost stifling.

"Mrs. Dickenson has said you are to be in the lavender bedroom, Miss… Freshly redecorated last spring, it is ever so nice… and your son is right across the hall. He is a delightful child, isn't he… so well-mannered and easy to please… I brought him fresh towels for his bath this morning… and you should have seen the look on his little face… told me he'd never had a bath indoors before… what a little darling…" Ellen muttered, in an attempt to make pleasant conversation.

Michaela glanced around disconcertedly at the very familiar surroundings, although felt as if nothing appeared quite as it had in her memory.

"Here we are… now you just settle yourself in… and be sure to call for me should you need anything…" Ellen escorted Michaela to the immaculately furnished bedroom, and waited until she'd taken several steps into the room before she continued, "Are you sure there isn't anything I can get you, dear… some afternoon tea?" Ellen's usually cheery face dropped unconsciously to a concerned frown, when she received no acknowledgement whatsoever of her inquiry. "Miss?" The brunette chambermaid hovered in the doorway for several moments, hopeful of a reply.

Michaela was pulled from her daydream by the persistent voice, and turned, her expression blank and dumbfounded.

Ellen was about to repeat the question when she heard a commotion commence across the hall. "Excuse me, dear… you just make yourself comfortable…" Ellen smiled politely, and swung the large door closed softly, as she turned with authority back towards the young boy's room.

"You're a liar! They can't!" Rebecca's daughter's shrill voice could be easily heard form across the landing.

"Can too!" A boy's voice retorted, as Ellen increased her speed and reached for the doorknob to the second guest room.

"No way… it's against the law!" Penelope's voice intensified, as the door was opened and Ellen laid her eyes on the two children's hands interlocked around each other's upper arms.

"But it's true!" Brian pulled away from her grasp violently, however, the determined ten year-old girl had no intentions of retreating from the argument, and equally squeezed his arms in defense. "You don't know what you're talkin' about… my Ma's havin' a baby and she ain't married!" Brian pulled away slightly more forcefully this time, Penelope lost her balance, and dropped ungraciously to a heap on the floor.

"Children! What on earth…" Ellen surveyed the checkers board, slightly crocked on the edge of the bed, as well as the pieces which lay in disarray around it.

"Nothin'…" Brian froze for several moments, before he reached down to help his cousin to her feet.

"Well, young man, I'm afraid it doesn't look that way to me… Miss Penelope?" Eileen raised a single eyebrow at the young girl.

"Brian said that you don't have to be married to have a baby, but Mother said that it's a sin if you have baby without being married, and father said that it only happens to bad women, and that they throw them in _jail_ for it… and then Brian… Brian said…" Penny struggled to find enough breath to continue, as she gently smoothed her dress out over her crumpled petticoat.

"But that ain't true, Miss; my Ma's havin' a baby… and she ain't bad… Aunt Rebecca said so…" The young boy folded his arms tightly across his chest.

"I… she is, son?" Ellen stammered, and unconsciously glanced back towards Michaela's room.

"Uh-huh… so tell Penny she's wrong… you don't gotta be married…" Brian shrugged in vehement protest.

"Ah… children, what about... if… we all go downstairs for some nice shortbread… and… Penny, you might ask your Mother about your question…?" Ellen opened the boy's bedroom door and swiftly shooed both youngsters back down towards the stairs. Turning as the children quickly launched into a new topic, Ellen looked back towards Michaela's room with a dejected sigh.

**X.O.X**

"Thought he'd never get to sleep…" Colleen smiled softly down at her brother's sleeping form.

"Reckon he was awake all last night… can't say I blame him…" Sully kept his voice low, knowing Matthew desperately needed the rest.

"Yeah… I… I'm sorry I've been… I mean I know I ain't been takin' this real grown-up or anything… I know Matthew's probably been angry at me… he thinks I'm actin' like a little kid…" Colleen began to idly fold the wool blanket she'd had wrapped over her legs, taking her time in order to avoid what she assumed would be a nod of agreement from Sully.

"Don't you go thinkin' that… I don't think people can say that someone's actin' childish… or wrong. Don't think anyone's got the right to judge another's opinions… coz, end of the day, no-one ever truly sees something through someone else's eyes… the hard part in life is realizin' that…" He noticed the young girl's deliberate efforts to avoid his gaze. With great care and silence, Sully moved from the padded bench of the stage, to crouch down in front of Colleen. She still wouldn't look up at him.

"Colleen…" He leant forwards to place his hands tenderly over her smaller ones, forcing her to look down at him.

"I…" She automatically tried to prize her hands away, however, when that didn't work, bit her lower lip and reluctantly met his eyes.

"You think people forgotten just how hard this has been for you? Well, I ain't… You think I don't know how grown-up you've had to be… think people ain't told me what happened. I know, Colleen… it was _you_ saved ya Ma's life… and since then… ain't been any easier… everyone's been so caught up… trying to make sure Michaela's all right… and I know Brian's been a nuisance. Ain't no-one been there for you… and I can only apologize, but don't you think, just coz we ain't said anything… that no-one's noticed," Sully saw the girl's cheeks redden. Supportively, he brought his right hand up to squeeze her shoulder, not expecting her to drop forwards against his chest.

"… and no-one… no-one ever talked about it, Sully… everyone's just been ignorin' it… Miss Dorothy reckons it's best to 'try and forget'… but I can't… and can't talk about it with Dr. Mike, neither. Even before I found out she was pregnant. I feel bad for wantin' to talk to her; if it were me, I wouldn't a wanted to know. She… she was so hurt, Sully. I, I can't stop seein'… can't stop rememberin'… all the blood… and to think… how could someone do that… I mean… hurt someone that bad… and leave 'em to die… how could anyone be that cruel?" Colleen felt her nose push harder against his collarbone as the tears continued to run freely from her eyes. For the first time in almost four months, she had allowed herself to let someone in. To be honest in how she felt, and express openly, the pain she'd carried since Hank had placed Michaela down on the examination table in front of her.

Sully felt the silence amplify around him. He had to say something. As he had heard the words fall from Colleen's lips, they united with the dark images he too carried in his mind. "Not all people see life the same, Colleen. We're lucky… we grew up respectin' the people in our lives… ya Ma and Pa… ya brothers… ya friends… same as me. Same as Cloud Dancing, and Snowbird. Ain't everyone brought up the same. Ain't brought up to care about other people the way we do… ain't brought up knowin' love…" He strengthened his tender grasp around the young girl's shoulder, as he felt her hands clutch around the back of his neck.

"And… I know everyone wants to forget about it… I know that's the right thing… but…" Colleen moved her fingers quickly, the memory of the traumatic experience enough to cause the sensation of blood trickling against her fingertips once again.

"No, it ain't… that's just what people try to tell people when they're strugglin' to find the courage to heal… healin' is never about forgettin'. The opposite… it's about being able to remember and it not hurt so bad… said the same thing to Dr. Mike, Colleen. We know we're healing, when… each time… the pain of rememberin' ain't quite so bad as the last time… and maybe… one day… it'll go away," Sully heard the girl's cries dissipate, and moved both his hands to her upper arms, as she pulled her head from his chest. They locked eyes firmly. "… but, I know this for sure; even if the pain don't go away… just havin' gone through something like this… will make us stronger. Means that other stuff, stuff that other people would find painful… would never be as upsettin'…" Sully saw the tears dry on her cheeks.

Colleen sniffled several times, as she cleared the moisture from her nose and throat. Her voice was still hoarse. "You're right… it puts everything in its place… I know I just get so mad at Brian… when he whines about… gettin' a splinter… or, when Becky gets upset coz she failed a math test… makes me angry coz I know those things aren't really that bad…" Her chin quivered as she involuntarily cast her mind back over that single, haunting day.

"Right. Makes you tougher… means you can get through the hard stuff in life… When you said about actin' childish… that's not true, Colleen. What we've just talked about… proves to me, just how much you've had to grow up these last months… admittin' you're scared… admittin' you can't handle something… that ain't childish." Sully reassured her, as he let his hands drop from her arms.

"Guess…" Colleen nodded, as she slowly began to calm down. She turned to gaze out towards the more built-up countryside. "Sully…?" She dropped her eyes and turned back to him.

"Hmm?" He rested a hand on her knee, as he too looked out towards their surroundings.

"Once we find her… get her back… how we gonna tell the town… you saw how they were with that Indian baby… gonna be even worse like this," Colleen shook her head, as she contemplated the thought.

"Don't gotta think about it all now… but, I know, it's hard not to. Don't forget, Colleen, town came 'round to the cowboy's baby eventually… even Jake… ya Ma was gonna keep him in the end…" Sully considered for the first time, what the end result of this nightmare would be.

"Yeah… but she loved him… it ain't nothin' like this…" Colleen dismissed immediately.

"Then, we just gotta help her out, don't we? Gonna make us all stronger... and won't be on our own… Olive and… and I bet folks'll be more acceptin' this time… if not… We'll make it work, Colleen. We will," Sully asserted deliberately. All he wanted was to know that Michaela was safe. Nothing would seem insurmountable once they were all together again; as a family.

**X.O.X**

"Michaela?" Rebecca tapped lightly on the door. Not receiving a response, she pushed it open enough to glance into the room. "Thought I'd come to check on you," she noticed her youngest sister resting peacefully on her left side, her head turned. Michaela showed no indication of having heard her, and maintained her gaze out of the large window across the room.

"I can have Ellen bring some afternoon tea up for you…?" Rebecca walked around to the far side of the room, and smiled softly when she saw that her sister was indeed awake. "Michaela… please speak to me… say something…?" Rebecca cringed, as she nervously settled herself on the edge of the bed.

Michaela's only visible reaction was to blink, and shift her gaze in uncomfortable distraction.

_Why won't she just go away… and leave me alone. There's absolutely nothing she can do. All she'll try to do is talk, and I don't want to. There's nothing she, nor anyone, can say that can make this situation better. I can't even look at her._

Rebecca saw her sister's diverted attention, and deliberately slid further along the edge of the bed, until she was placed directly between Michaela and the window.

"Michaela… please don't do this… Look; I… I won't pretend to know what you're going through… but I _do_ know what the doctors have said, and what Brian's told me… I know more than you think… probably more than you want… and… I know what it took for you to come here." Rebecca paused, and adjusted her tone slightly. "I know our family as well as you do, why do you think I told Mother to leave last night…" Rebecca saw the distraught glare of angst flash across her sister's face. Very slowly, she reached forwards to grasp Michaela's left hand. "I _promise, _Michaela… she'll never know about any of this… it will remain between us… and nothing will ever change that," her voice had dropped to a whisper, still not able to break through her sister's cold, emotionless stare.

Michaela dropped her head, distracted by the feeling of her sister's fingers interlocked with her own. _There's nothing she can do. Nothing anyone says will change matters._

"Michaela… you… you need to talk to me…" Rebecca cleared her throat to continue, unaware that her words were being silently responded to.

_No, I don't…_

"Brian told me… he told me about…" the mere anticipation of vocalizing such words caused Rebecca considerable distress, "he told me about… what happened. No-one thinks this is your fault, Michaela… no-one blames you…" Rebecca saw her sister turn her head away.

_Don't lie… I can't bear that… Please, don't lie…_

"Michaela… we were raised in the same house; I know exactly how you believe everyone feels about this. It doesn't mean, however, that I feel the same way. I don't. It's not the same here… attitudes to women are different, it's true. But… that is because life is so different here. You've told me so yourself. You've forgotten in the two years you've been away. Here… women don't leave the house unattended… and… are never in the company of single men without a chaperone… You can't hold yourself to the same standard that you were raised to… in your letters… why, Michaela, you raise three children all by yourself… miles and miles from town… the… rules just aren't the same… I don't care what anyone says… maybe here… with all the protection… and formalities… I can see why women aren't afforded sympathy for allowing themselves to be…" Rebecca couldn't say it, and merely drew a breath to press on, "… but that's here… Brian told me… about… about what they did to you," she felt her voice choke at the mere consideration, "… oh, why didn't you tell me… come home, I," Rebecca felt the tears gather in her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to clasp her sister's shoulders. To embrace her with the warmth and love that she felt pouring from her chest. Instead, Rebecca merely glanced down at their entwined fingers, feeling the energy drained from her sister's touch.

"Please, Michaela… you can't be ashamed to tell me the truth… how did it happen? Why did they kidnap you? Where… where was Sully… everyone… why didn't they rescue you… why was it allowed to happen…" Rebecca felt the sadness within her quickly turn into raw anger. "This is just _not_ acceptable!" She saw Michaela pull her hand away at the unintentional rage in her voice.

Rebecca felt her heart drop, and immediately regretted her unplanned outburst. The damage was already done. She looked back up to see Michaela's hands folded defensively across her chest; the fingers of her left hand dug painfully into her right upper arm.

"Michaela, I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, I didn't mean… Please, I don't for an instant blame… I… I just meant, that the town… Sully… should have…" Rebecca watched as her sister clenched her jaw tightly. "This… this isn't about anyone else… I'm sorry… but… I… I don't know what to say… you know I'm not the talkative one, Michaela. I just… want to help…" Rebecca saw the hopeless expression return to her sister's face. "I'll… I'd best go and check on the children… William will be around later this evening to see that you're recovering suitably… Edmund and I will be having dinner at Mother's… I didn't particularly want to attend, however, it will be conspicuous if I'm absent… and keeping Mother away will be difficult enough…" Rebecca stood slowly, and paced to the end of the bed. At a loss for inspiration, she gripped the frame of the bed tightly, and looked her sister up and down sorrowfully. "Stay as long as you need, Michaela… but please… I hope you'll trust me enough to… let me in eventually… talking about it is the only way you're going to be able to deal with this…" Rebecca could only imagine the tortures her baby sister must have endured to have rendered her in such a state. In that instant, unspeakable horrors swept through her consciousness, violent enough to send her rushing from the room.

**X.O.X**

"Still reckon Grace's fried-chicken is better… if you come visit, you'll have to try some and see what ya think…" Brian and Penelope jogged excitedly upstairs, having filled their stomachs with soup, roast beef and pudding for dessert.

"Is she your cook?" Penny phrased politely, as both children arrived at the top of the stairs.

"No… she runs the café in town, for everyone… hey… where we goin'?" Brian noticed that Penny veered to the left, away from his bedroom.

"My room, silly… Would you like to see the new doll Uncle Everett brought me for my birthday?" Penny turned back to address him.

"Um… yeah… sure…" Brian rolled his eyes, however continued to trudge along behind her, not wishing to seem rude.

"I have a cradle for her… and different clothes… we can play pretend?" Penelope increased her stride excitedly.

"Play pretend _what?"_ Brian grew hesitant; he knew what girls were like with dolls.

"Pretend like… I'm the Mother, and you're the Father… here… let me find her…" Penelope eagerly showed Brian into her spacious room, the young boy stunned by the wealth of lace and pink.

"This is bigger than our homestead…" His mouth dropped as he took in the stunningly decorated room, from the large bay window, surrounded by toys and stuffed animals, to the writing desk and chair, to the expansive play area, and finally the large bed, chest of drawers, dressing table with ornate mirror, and walk-through dressing area.

"Don't be silly…" Penny chuckled as she dragged the white-painted wooden doll's cradle to the center of the play area, quickly looking around for some accessories.

"I… I ain't…" Brian swallowed, the teeth of envy nibbling on his heels.

"Here… you wear these…" Penny emerged from the large toy chest by the far wall, and thrust a musky-smelling suit jacket and hat into Brian's hands. "Put them on… and I'll put this on…" She slipped the long, layered skirt over her head, and arranged it neatly until she was content with her appearance.

"Uh… all right… so… you're the Ma and I'm the Pa? What do we do?" Brian shrugged his shoulders, as he slipped on the jacket and hat, both several sizes too large for him.

"Um… well… you have to be at work… and then come home… and I'll be at home… go outside… then come inside, all right?" Penny instructed rather bossily, Brian, however obeying meekly.

"Alright… whatever you say, I ain't done this before. Ya sure it ain't gonna be silly?" He hung his head and moped towards the door leading from the hallway.

"No, trust me, it will be fun… we play this all the time at parties… so you knock then when I say so, you come in… ready?" Penelope crossed her bedroom to reach for the small doll in the cradle, as Brian dutifully stepped out into the hallway and prepared to re-enter the room.

Brian closed the large, wooden door behind him, as he adjusted the slightly mangled top hat more securely onto his small head.

"All right… I'm ready…" Penelope ordered from behind the closed door.

Brian raised his hand, about to knock as instructed, when he heard voices at the end of the corridor to his right.

Quickly forgetting the proposed game, the young boy ran hurriedly to the source of the noise, seeing Ellen escorting Dr. Burke down the hallway towards him.

"Evening, Brian… must say, you do look rather dashing there…" William smiled as the boy momentarily forgot his embarrassing attire.

"Sorry, Sir… Penny and I were just playin'… ya come to see Ma again?" Brian looked towards the closed door between them. He had been placed under strict instructions that he was to allow his mother to rest for the evening.

"That's right," William ruffled the child's hair, as Ellen knocked on Michaela's door.

Brian and William turned back around at the sound of a high-pitched voice from behind them.

"Brian! We haven't finished! You ran off!" Penny hurtled down the corridor, doll clutched tightly in her hands as she blushed at the presence of company.

"I... yeah… I'm sorry…" He muttered, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

"Then I had best let you two get back to it, hadn't I, _Mister_ Cooper…" William chuckled lightly, as Penelope skipped back along the hallway.

"Ah… yeah…" Brian sighed and hung his head resolutely. "Guess so… hey… ah… Dr. Burke…?" Brian grasped his arm lightly, as William was about to step towards the ajar door.

"Can… can you… tell Ma that I really don't hate her… coz I think she's upset, thinking that I do…" Brian chewed on his lower lip, and looked away.

"Brian, your mother knows you don't hate her…" William reassured, placing a hand gently on the boy's shoulder in support of his words.

"Well… can you make sure… was thinkin' maybe that's why Aunt Rebecca said I can't see her…" Brian swallowed, before locking eyes with the physician.

"I will, indeed, son. How does this sound; I need to check on your mother for a little while. After I've left, you can sit with her until bedtime… that do?" William softened his tone and slipped his hand from the child's shoulder.

"Uh-huh…" Brian perked up somewhat, and paced back towards his cousin's bedroom.

William watched the confused child depart for several moments, before he cleared his throat and turned towards the open doorway which led into Michaela's room.

"Shall I stay outside, sir?" Ellen queried politely, as she stepped away from the open door.

"Yes, thank-you…" William replied curtly, aware of propriety. As he paced into the room, he reminded himself that professional detachment was required.

"I apologize for the late hour, however I said I would call by this evening, to check on you," He spoke brusquely, as he noticed the vacant expression on Michaela's face.

After gingerly closing the door, William set his black medical bag on the corner of the bed.

"You're looking a lot brighter, I must say…" He attempted to conceal his awkwardness with light pleasantries. "This won't take long… have you been sleeping much today?" William retrieved the stethoscope from his bag, and moved around to the farthest side of the bed, Michaela eyeing him suspiciously as he took a seat beside her.

He was thrown by her continued silence. "Michaela…?" He frowned slightly, and decided to reiterate the question. "How have you been feeling?" When again he did not receive a verbal response, William sighed, and realized he'd need to resort to closed questions as he had the night before.

"All right… but at least answer my questions with a nod or a dismissal… have you been feeling unusually tired today?" He waited several moments until she comprehended his question and shook her head, still not looking at him.

"Fine… have you felt unwell at all?" Again she dismissed his question. "Have you been monitoring the baby's heartbeat several times throughout the…" William didn't even bother pursuing the question when he saw her recoiled and cold expression.

"No, that's understandable… however, you know I need to…" He clutched the stethoscope in his right hand, and waited for a reaction.

Michaela shrugged lightly, before unfastening the clasp on the back on her skirt, and turning onto her back without a single sound. She felt her breathing become more shallow as she stared up at the elaborately detailed ceiling.

William took in the rigidity of her movements with increased concern, as he sensitively leant forwards to push aside the gathered fabric of her pale lilac skirt. He brought the bell of the instrument to rest on her exposed flesh, as he alternated his glance subtly between her turned away face, and her protruding abdomen.

"I'm sorry… I know this isn't pleasant…" He kept his gaze rested on her hollow expression, as he moved the stethoscope slightly, before locating a consoling heartbeat. "There…" He couldn't help the pleased smile that came to his mouth. It lasted only momentarily, however, as William noticed the force Michaela had exerted on her lower lip.

He frowned in concentration as he ensured the satisfactory pace and regularity of the child's heartbeat. William removed the stethoscope from his ears, and worriedly studied her detached expression for several moments longer. "Michaela," he voiced to gain her attention. "Here…" His eyes narrowed in intrigue as he slipped the instrument from around his neck and held it out towards her. It was more to gauge her reaction, than in expectation that she would accept the offering.

Her eyes lowered towards a small portion of the finely embroidered quilt by her left side. William understood her rejection, and discreetly returned the instrument to his bag without another word. The room remained deathly silent, as he tentatively reached for her left wrist, Michaela involuntary flinching at the unexpected contact.

"It's all right…" He let her wrist drop back to the quilt after having checked her pulse. "Well… you appear to be fully recovered from yesterday's… incident…" William sidestepped around the issue immediately, whilst he tried to read the emotionally neutral, yet guarded look upon his patient's face.

As he closed the bag beside him, William knew he had to say something. "Michaela... I… I know it all seems very scary right now… and very hard to talk about… however… you will, eventually, need to talk… to your sister… to me if you so wish…" He picked up his medical bag in his left hand, and remained by the left side of the bed whilst he spoke, "I… we all… care about you… very much… We wouldn't have fought to see you here safely if we did not." He felt uncomfortable at such open candor, however believed it was warranted.

"I'll check on you again tomorrow…" William muttered softly, his gaze lowered down towards the bag clutched in his hand. As he turned to move from the edge of the bed, William felt his right wrist grasped firmly. The unanticipated movement shocked him more than he thought possible. "What…?" He faced her, his eyes searching her lost, soulless expression for any clue as to her motivation behind the forward gesture.

Michaela felt her jaw move slightly, aware of the unconscious desire to voice the two words she had repeated again and again in her mind ever since she'd arrived the day before. She couldn't. As the air collected in her throat, Michaela willed herself to utter the plea; but no sound was heard.

"You… you're perfectly safe here… tell me… Michaela, please…" William perched back on the end of the bed as he clasped her left hand in his, as it remained fastened around his wrist. She simply glanced away, downwards, to watch her chest rise and fall with each breath in and out of her lungs.

"It's all right… I promise you… when you're ready… we're here…" He squeezed her hand reassuringly and gently placed it down against her side. "See you tomorrow…" He repeated, and departed forlornly from the bedroom.

Michaela quickly readjusted the waistband of her skirt, unable to ignore her swollen stomach, even through the many layers of petticoats and material. As she stared unconnectedly downwards, she remembered more clearly, the events of the previous day. She had _felt_ it… she knew then, that that was what had driven her to such despicable measures. Michaela's eyelids fluttered several times, as she concentrated her attention inwardly. She could not feel that same feeling now. She could not feel anything, aside from mild nausea and the remnants of a headache. She could no longer feel what she had the day before.

Michaela dismissed the realization immediately; it didn't mean anything. In the early stages, the first movements could come and go… only becoming permanent at approximately the sixth month. She tried to separate medical expertise from emotion. It was so difficult to remain as detached as she could have, had she simply been informing someone else.

As she moved back over onto her right side, Michaela heard William's earlier words play over in her mind several times. She wanted to trust him; she wanted more than anything to ask for his help.

Maybe…


	72. Chapter 72

**Chapter 72**

"Thank-you…" William nodded politely as Ellen handed him his jacket and hat once they'd arrived back downstairs. "Oh, please see to it that Brian is able to spend some time with his mother this evening… pass it along to Mrs. Dickenson that I think it is in both their best interests…" William turned at the sound of the door opening several feet from them.

"Edmund, please… they're _my_ sisters, and I'll speak with them in whatever manner I deem appropriate… I'd appreciate it if you would…" Rebecca looked up as she and her husband bustled into the entrance foyer, having endured several hours of hospitality with her mother, sisters and in-laws.

"Dear, I was…" Edmund also noticed the company, and busied himself handing his jacket to Ellen, who promptly made her presence scarce.

"Oh, Dr. Burke…" Rebecca smiled genuinely, as William raised a hand in polite protest.

"William, please, Mrs. Dickenson," he assured with a dull smile.

"William… you're just arriving also?" Rebecca enquired, as Edmund disappeared into the sitting room for his evening pipe.

"Actually, I was just leaving… however, I am pleased to have the chance to speak with you…" He cordially slipped the hat from his head, and cleared his throat nervously.

"As am I… I can't thank you enough for all you've done… I don't know how you managed to convince the doctors to allow her to be released…" Rebecca muttered almost to herself.

"It wasn't… all that simple… I had to… compromise myself, however… I wouldn't have done it, had I not believed we could help her…" William replied awkwardly, not keen to delve into the specifics for the sake of propriety

"But… they were so determined… I can't see how they excused the overdose… on your word alone?" Rebecca frowned.

"They… didn't… That is why I had to concoct such fabrication… I… they were of the opinion that… well, there was certain physical evidence, which they believed to be proof of previous abortive intentions… I… had to…" William turned his head away, in a desperate attempt to dismiss the uncomfortable subject matter.

"I… don't understand… what?" Rebecca narrowed the distance between them, and forced herself to prepare for what she suspected would be a disturbing revelation.

"I'd really rather not… it's… not… appropriate…" William dropped his tone to an unsupported whisper.

"This is my _sister_…" She pressed, her voice strained.

He raised his hand apologetically, "I know. And that is exactly why you do not need such details in your head. Suffice it to say, the evidence to which they were referring was not self-inflicted. Once that issue was made clear, well, Dr. Hodge was quite accommodating, provided I assured him of her safety. And from what I've gathered these last two days, she's in no state to pose a threat to herself or the child…" William turned towards the front door, as Rebecca touched his arm softly.

"I… but is she all right?" Her voice was raw and pleading.

"As I mentioned this afternoon, physically, Michaela and the child are fine… I am at a loss, however, as to explain her continued… silence…" William searched for the most appropriate word, never having thought he'd have to use the words 'Michaela' and 'silence' in the same sentence.

"As am I…" Rebecca dropped her head, ashamed, as she continued, "… I am afraid that I may have made matters worse…" William raised a single eyebrow, and Rebecca spoke further, "… earlier this afternoon… I sat with her for awhile… I… I was hoping she might speak with me… Last night, Brian told me what happened… and I told Michaela that I knew everything… I.. I thought that might calm her… make her feel more comfortable, that she could talk with me… I tried to explain that I understood how ashamed she must have felt… but that being out there… like that… is so much different to being in a large city like this… that it wasn't her fault… I said too much though… I started to question… how… and why… I let myself see it all… and… I'm afraid I overreacted. I made it sound like someone should have stopped it from happening… and… she pulled away from me…" Rebecca sighed in regret of her earlier behavior.

"You mustn't blame yourself… it's difficult to know what to say… I wish as well that somehow this might have been avoided… that we never should have let her leave… that…" William shook his head dismissively.

"We'd have been wasting our breath… no-one tells my sister what to do… I just don't know where to go from here…" Rebecca glanced around, once again ensuring their words were not overheard.

"We need to wait until she'll talk to us… Once we can present to her… a variety of options… she can choose which she wants… and I can make some enquiries…" William clasped his medical bag in front of him with both hands, and kept his stance professional.

"Options… I don't understand…" Rebecca shrugged in frustration.

"Well… I… I can make arrangements, for… discrete accommodations… until the child is born… or she might stay with you… and a suitable family can be found to adopt…" William spoke rationally, before Rebecca abruptly interjected.

"You don't mean that my sister actually has to deliver this… _that…"_ Rebecca's voice strengthened to match the horrified look that appeared upon her face.

"I'm afraid… there's… no other option…" William replied, baffled.

"Dr. Burke… William… I… I know it's… against God… but… given the unique circumstances… do you truly believe it's fair to put Michaela through this… and… a child born out of such… brutality… is hardly going to…" Rebecca swallowed, and forced herself to press on. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "… please… you've got to do something…" The pair locked eyes, in silence for several long, drawn-out moments.

"There's… there's really nothing I can do, I'm sorry…" William shook his head automatically, although he knew exactly to what Rebecca had been referring.

"But there must be… otherwise, why would Michaela have tried… why would she have come here… I… I know it's not talked about openly… but… surely… you don't wish to see her ruined… like this…?" Rebecca pleaded.

"Mrs. Dickenson… the termination of a pregnancy… is… against the law…" William's voice was frank and void of feeling.

"I… I know…" She pulled her eyes away, and softened her voice, "but this is my sister… not some… harlot…" Rebecca turned back to him, her voice more desperate, "Please… help her…" Her voice was barely audible, as she dropped her hand back from his arm.

William placed his hat back meekly on his head, his gaze still lowered.

"I… I'll see you again tomorrow…" He slipped through the front door silently.

**X.O.X**

"Ma?" The young boy snuck his head through the ajar doorway. "Can… can I come in, Ma? Dr. Burke said I could see ya…" He turned his head slightly, as he waited for a response.

Michaela looked up at the sound of the small voice, a warm nod serving as enough encouragement for the child to creep into the bedroom and close the door behind him.

"Are we stayin' here now Ma?" Brian crawled nervously onto the edge of the bed and settled himself back against the large pillows. A small frown appeared on his face when, after several seconds, he did not receive a reply.

"It's all right, Ma… you don't gotta say nothin'… not if ya still sick… how about… if… if… well… I can tell ya 'bout what we been doin'… ya can just listen if ya want… don't gotta say nothin'…" Brian ran his tongue along the edge of his lower lip, leaning forward to try and gauge her reaction.

Michaela, still distracted from her earlier conversation with William, barely heard the child's idle chatter. He detailed his activities for the past twenty-four hours, in the laborious, yet enthusiastic way that only a young child can, "… and then she said we were gettin' married… said it didn't mean nothin' though… but… I dunno… guess it's all right if it's only pretend… reckon she only wanted to get married so she could have the baby though… how come girls always wanna dress up in silly clothes… and… play with dolls… don't wanna do nothin' interestin'…" Brian trailed off, realizing his recant really wasn't that interesting. "Sorry, Ma…" He chewed on his lower lip, glancing around the room as he looked for inspiration.

Michaela turned her head slightly to observe the hesitant grimace in the child's expression. Her eyes dropped closed wearily after several moments of silence.

"Ma… don't…" Brian grabbed her right hand quickly, instantly alarmed.

Michaela opened her eyes spontaneously, and understood the child's panic.

"Sorry… I… got worried… Ma…?" He dropped the pitch of his voice, calming down. He waited until her eyes locked with his. Brian's voice was hushed, "Ma… Back… at the hotel… I… I'm… sorry I said I hated ya…" He lowered his head, eyes focusing on the quilt below, "… didn't mean it… thought ya were mad at me…" He couldn't bring himself to glance back up at her for a response.

Michaela felt her chest drop at the child's admission. Words, even if she could have found the appropriate ones, would have been insufficient. As she drew an emotional breath, Michaela moved her right arm to the child's shoulders and pulled him closer against her side. He looked up, stunned, at the welcomed, yet unexpected, motion.

"Ya not mad anymore, Ma?" Brian settled snugly against her, feeling more comforted by the firmness of her arm around his back and shoulders than he thought possible.

She offered no response other than to slowly and deliberately lean forward, and place a kiss in the middle of his forehead. He squeezed tighter against her, and slipped his left arm to her shoulder as both held the much needed embrace.

"Love you too, Ma… We can stay here if you want… I don't mind," the young boy muttered, as he felt himself comforted by the familiar scent of her clothing against his cheek.

Neither moved until there was a faint knock at the door.

"Penny… don't wanna…" Brian frowned and reluctantly pulled away from Michaela's side, as the door opened and Rebecca popped her head into the room.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's just me…" she consoled with a knowing smile of her daughter's bossiness.

"Sorry, Aunt Rebecca…" The boy settled himself back against his mother's side.

"Might I sit with you, Brian…?" Rebecca asked politely, and, after receiving an immediate nod, perched against the boy's left side on the edge of the large bed.

"Aunt Rebecca…" Brian waited for acknowledgement, and continued, "are we gonna be stayin' with you now?" He phrased the question neutrally.

"I don't know, honey… would… would it be a problem?" she replied.

"No… just… if Ma ain't talkin'… she can't be a doctor… can she?" he deduced rapidly.

"No… I… I guess not…" the older woman's voice faded away miserably.

"Then we can't go home till she can… so we have to stay," The room remained in silence, Rebecca shifting her eyes from her sister to her nephew, until Brian eventually spoke.

"What… what happened to the cat, Aunt Rebecca? The one Ma saved…" Brian launched into the new subject.

"I… I was married soon after… I suppose he stayed with your mother," she dismissed, but saw the hopeful look in the child's eyes. "Brian that was years ago… it… it would have died by now…" Rebecca consoled.

"Oh… yeah… well, what was his name?" Brian recovered quickly from the 'tragedy', and moved on.

"I… I can't remember, I…" Rebecca barely recognized the sound of another adult's voice, until she saw the child's face animate beyond description.

"_Victus_… from the Latin, meaning living…" Michaela's voice was inflected, having not realized she'd spoken until both pairs of eyes turned to her.

Brian was oblivious to the significance of his mother's voice, and didn't react until he saw the tears begin to fill her eyes.

"Michaela?" Rebecca moved immediately around to the farthest side of the bed, and without any hesitation, reached forwards to grasp her sister's shoulders.

"What'd he look like, Ma?" Brian continued, nervously, wanting to fill the emptiness of the room.

"He…" Michaela was about to continue when she felt reality catch up with her in a heartbeat. She wasn't twelve anymore. She felt her sister's arms around her back, as the solitary tear ran down her right cheek.

"It's all right, Michaela… it doesn't matter…" Rebecca knew her sister wasn't crying for the dead cat.

Brian watched as his mother remained numb in his aunt's arms.

Michaela felt the single ringlet of her sister's fine, brown hair, brush against the side of her face, as her chin nestled firmly against her shoulder. Her hands clasped behind Rebecca's back, as her eyes darted around the familiar room, snippets of images, fragments of voices, collected in her mind. Michaela felt over twenty years pass through her memory in as many seconds.

"How… how come the cat made her upset?" Brian sat up on his knees, to quietly address his aunt.

"I… don't know Brian… I don't think it was the cat…" She ran her hand soothingly along her sister's long, auburn hair, noticing it glimmer against the light in the room.

"Father… you have to tell him, Rebecca… he'll save her…" Michaela's voice was tiny and lost, as she looked down and saw the blood from the injured cat appear on her fingers.

"Michaela… Father's dead… sweetheart… that was a long time ago…" Rebecca pulled away from her sister, to grasp her small, delicate hands.

"But… she's hurt… I can't stop it… there's too much blood… she's going to die…" Michaela kept her gaze lowered, as she brought her left hand over her right, to symbolically indicate the blood on her fingers.

"Ssh… it's all right…" Rebecca whispered, confused by the intensity of her younger sister's actions.

"No, it's not… you don't understand…" Michaela shook her head more violently.

"Ma, you saved the little cat… he lived… remember?" Brian rested back on his heels, as he tried to mediate between both women.

Michaela blinked several times, unable to reconcile the deluded thoughts in her mind.

"_No_…" She begged, her voice still childlike. Brian narrowed his eyes and looked across to his aunt.

"How come she don't remember?" His voice was almost a whisper.

Rebecca turned back to her sister, having managed to understand what was going on before her. "Michaela… you're not talking about the cat anymore… we know that…" Her explanation was confident, yet calm.

Michaela looked down at her sister's hands, interlocked with her own.

"But that is all right…" Rebecca covered Michaela's left hand with her own, as she pushed it carefully down against her stomach. Their eyes met immediately. "It is all right… it is not your fault…" Rebecca felt her sister's hands squirm under her own, but her grip remained firm.

Michaela, rather than physically avoiding her sister's grasp, merely turned her head back towards the window to her left.

Rebecca could feel the hardness of her sister's lower abdomen against their overlapped hands. She let a soft sigh drop from her lips. "We'll leave you to settle for the night… Brian… Ellen has cookies and milk downstairs for Penny and yourself… then you can say goodnight to your mother… and prepare for bed…" Rebecca removed her hand, watching as Michaela's hand also dropped lifelessly from her abdomen.

"Aww man, she gonna feed that doll and all?" He speculated, as he slid from the edge of the mattress.

"I suppose so…" Rebecca rose to her feet, and paced around towards the door after the little boy. "Go along, sweetheart…" She patted him on the back lightly, as he obediently exited the room.

"Here.." Rebecca turned her attention back to her sister. She reached for the nightgown which Ellen had placed in the top drawer of the dressing table. "Michaela… we're trying…" Rebecca murmured weakly as she draped the crisp, ivory garment over the edge of the bed frame.

The youngest Quinn daughter still hadn't moved.

"I'll… check on you a little later… is there anything I can get you?" Rebecca stepped back from the bed, trying to read the blank expression on her sister's face.

Michaela remained silent, her gaze still fixed towards the window, as she shook her head dismissively several times.

"I'll... leave you to change…" Rebecca instructed, more to remind Michaela. She left the room without another word.

**X.O.X**

**Sunday, 10****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later – 20 Weeks Gestation**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela finished brushing through the final strands of her long, auburn hair, before she carefully buttoned up the remaining top few buttons of the housecoat, and opened the bathroom door.

Her eyes went immediately across the large, bedroom, ensuring her door was still safely closed, before she paced silently back into the room, and reached for the undergarments which lay neatly across the bed beside her clothes.

The bath had been quick, and far from relaxing. Michaela swept her damp hair over her shoulders, as she tentatively reached for the first button of the pale housecoat. She just wanted to be back in her own clothes… Michaela shook her head, mocking herself for the thought. It didn't make any difference. Her clothes barely fit anymore.

Michaela felt the anxiety build in her chest as soon as the reoccurring thought flooded her mind; what was she doing here? Perhaps William had been right when he'd spoken with her at the hospital; perhaps she was better just going away. She could arrange for Brian to travel back home… and she could wait, and return… after…

The very contemplation of _after_ caused her to feel queasy, however Michaela knew she had run out of options. She'd known that from the moment she'd awoken at the hospital, the instant she had laid her eyes on the assortment of gruff physicians towering over her.

She thought back to her sister's pleas the night before; Michaela knew she was only trying to help; trying to be supportive. But how could she expect anyone, much less her own family, to understand her actions. It was all so different here…

Michaela had not realized she'd deflected her gaze to the window, until she felt the droplets of cool water trail down the sides of her face from her wet hair. She wiped the moisture automatically from her temples, and let her eyes drop closed for several seconds.

She knew she could not stay here much longer; hiding her condition was becoming almost impossible. It would only be a matter of days, a week at the most before it would be outwardly apparent beyond denial. Her eyes opened as she rubbed her right hand up and down against her left arm, the action a desperate attempt to soothe the emotional panic brewing under every inch of her skin.

**X.O.X**

Ellen had just finished returning the breakfast condiments to the kitchen, when she heard the knock at the door. As she bustled through the dining room and into the entrance hall, the knocking intensified impatiently.

"Just a moment…" she sighed, and began to open the door.

"Where is she?" The woman stepped boldly through the doorway, her voice assertive and cutting.

"I beg your pardon…? I… Miss Marjorie?" Ellen recognized the familiar woman immediately, and turned to close the door behind her. In the mere seconds her back was turned, Ellen heard the guest's voice fade as she moved away from her.

"My sister… She's here, isn't she?" Marjorie's voice was crisp and impolite, having been quite offended when, only the previous night, a routine dinner at her Mother's had commenced with mention of her younger sister:

_Barely a full minute after the dozen or so people seated around the large, eloquently dressed dinner table had finished the Blessing, Elizabeth had turned to her eldest child._

"_Rebecca… might you enlighten us as to my daughter's absence?" Elizabeth phrased her question directly enough, so as to draw the attention of all the adults around them._

"_Mother… must we discuss this over supper?" The eldest Quinn daughter dropped the white napkin to her lap, as she felt everyone's eyes on her._

"_Oh… I'm sorry… was it not meant for… everyone's knowledge?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow sharply. "And there was I… thinking…'No… no child of mine would ever behave so secretively'… I am sorry, Rebecca… I just thought your sisters might be interested in the news…" Elizabeth smiled plainly, despite the sarcasm that dripped from her voice._

"_What is she talking about? Mother…?" Claudette frowned, and slipped the fork back against the Wedgwood china dinner plate._

"_Why don't you all ask your sister…? Rebecca, dear… do tell me… since you would no doubt know better than myself… did Michaela not feel up to joining us this evening?" Elizabeth muttered, as if she might have been discussing the weather._

"_Michaela… is still unwell…" Rebecca reached quickly for the cutlery either side of her plate, as she tried to ignore the hushed gasps and whispers from around the table._

"_I see. Do give her my warmest wishes…" Elizabeth daintily began slicing the succulent supper before her, both women aware of the point she was trying to make._

"_Rebecca… do you mean to say Michaela is here… in Boston?" Maureen frowned, and looked curiously from her mother to her older sister._

_Rebecca glanced up at Elizabeth, who diverted her eyes deliberately. Rebecca's utterance was quick "Yes… she is…" She returned her attention to the meal in front of her._

"_How is it… you are the only one to know of this?" Marjorie interjected, her envy was obvious._

_Rebecca took several moments to glance around at the four female relatives, each staring intently back at her. She drew a reluctant breath, and kept her voice flat, "Michaela… and Brian are only here for a few days… she was to be attending a medical conference, when she took ill yesterday, and I was contacted…" Rebecca dropped her head, as she let the untruth slip from her lips, knowing that an uninvited visitor was the last thing her sister needed. "She shall be leaving Monday…"_

_Slowly, her sisters and their husbands recommenced the weekly dinner. Rebecca glared back up at her mother, who nodded politely, and resumed her meal. About to do the same, Rebecca saw the fierceness of Marjorie's glare from across the table._

_Marjorie's recent divorce had left her bitter and sullen, and, after months of family gossip, Rebecca knew she would relish the focus being on another family member._

"Which one… Mrs. Dickenson is in the library… Miss Michaela…" Marjorie cut the short, brown-haired chambermaid off with lightening speed.

"Exactly…" She proceeded towards the staircase, and began climbing. Ellen remained close behind her.

"But… Miss Marjorie… she's not receiving visitors unannounced… Miss Marjorie, please…" Ellen struggled to keep up with the younger woman's emotion-fueled ascent.

"Never mind that…" Marjorie attempted to dismiss the woman with a flick of her right hand. She arrived on the landing and proceeded towards the two guest rooms along the hall in front of her.

**X.O.X**

Michaela tightened the undergarment as firmly as she could around her waist, able to clearly see her stomach protruding below her chest. She gritted her teeth and pulled the ties several inches longer, until the coarse material dug uncomfortably into her flesh.

She only clenched her jaw tighter when she reminded herself she was fighting fate, and destined to lose. Michaela pushed the reality away as she reached for her petticoat and stepped into it. She'd just managed to drag the firm, cotton material over her stomach, when she heard raised voices in the corridor.

Michaela felt her breath catch in her throat, and awkwardly reached for her white blouse which was folded neatly in the middle of the bed. She grappled with the flimsy material, the volume of the voices intensifying as she flung it over her shoulders, and attempted to finish dressing.

"You can't go in there, Miss Marjorie!" Ellen demanded from the hallway, trying to catch the younger woman's elbow, as her right hand found the gold-plated doorknob.

"Can't I just? We'll see…" Marjorie retorted self-importantly, as she flung the door open without another thought.

Michaela looked up as the trapped air in her throat was exhaled in a surprised gasp. She recognized the light head of hair, and matched it with the voice instantly.

"Well, well, well… I see Mother was right all along… if I didn't know better, I'd swear my sister had been keeping secrets…" Marjorie closed the door loudly, barely missing Ellen who was on her toes, several feet behind.

Michaela unintentionally startled at the sound of the slamming door, her jaw still dropped in shock.

Marjorie looked her younger sister up and down suspiciously, before she folded her arms across her chest and moved her tongue around in her mouth, searching for suitably condemning words.

_No… not another person… this is not happening… this is… _Michaela turned back towards the window as she squinted her eyes closed, and mentally willed the unwelcome presence to leave.

"I… apologize…" Marjorie paused, noticing her sister's partial state of dress. "It is after ten… I would have thought…" she trailed off dismissively, noticing something odd in her younger sister's appearance. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Michaela's face was paler, her cheeks fuller…

"For heaven's sake, at least finish dressing… I'll…" Marjorie sighed in contempt, although discretely turned around to allow her sister some degree of privacy.

Michaela slowly opened her eyes, and stepped forwards to grasp the pale crimson skirt which lay on the edge of the bed. Her eyes darted in undisguised panic between the garment in her hands, and her older sister's turned back, as she tried to calculate just how quickly she could fasten the skirt before Marjorie's patience would wear thin.

"Mother said you were ill… What I find quite… rude, is that you failed to inform us of your visit," Marjorie busied herself in running the tips of her fingers over the small china ornaments which lined the dressing table against the wall.

Michaela gathered the skirt in both hands, and quickly brought it up, several inches higher than her petticoat, the skirt designed to fit much more snugly than the petticoat, and therefore, being less-forgiving of her increased size.

"Cat got your tongue, dear? How… uncharacteristic," Marjorie chuckled lightly, as she unpredictably swiveled around one foot, having deemed she'd given her sister enough time to dress.

Michaela had just that instant fastened the metal clasp of the skirt when she felt her sister move slightly. With equal speed, Michaela brought her hands into an unnatural embrace in front of her.

"Oh, well… never mind… I trust you've been kept up-to-date on all the recent… events. I've no doubt you'd be pleased to know that the divorce proceedings went through only a month ago… Mother was beside herself with the notion of a scandal, however… she has… recovered…" Marjorie turned the right corner of her mouth up slightly, as she studied the delicacy with which her younger sister continued buttoning the top of her white blouse.

Michaela blinked, and swallowed, her mouth feeling dry, her breath rising, as she attempted to button the final two buttons. Her fingers felt stiff with nerves, and her hands shook.

"Michaela… you… Rebecca said you'd taken ill… I hadn't thought it serious… but you don't look well, at all," Marjorie studied the petrified look that slowly grew in her sister's eyes. As she arrived only feet from her, Marjorie brought her hands to her hips, and once again looked her sister up and down.

"I do hope it's nothing serious… but you're ever so pale… and your face… it's fuller," Marjorie took a step backwards, her right hand locking against her chin as she scrutinized her sister's appearance. "In fact… you're… fuller all over. Michaela Quinn… why… with a complexion like that… and a figure, dear… anyone would think you were pregnant!" Marjorie threw her head back with a humored laugh. A bright smile came to her lips, never for a moment believing there was any truth to her ridicule.

About to glance back at her younger sister, for the offended denial she had assumed was imminent, Marjorie's attention was jolted back towards the door as it swung open.

"How dare you! Just what do you think you're doing!" Rebecca stormed into the room, having heard only her sister's bemused cackle several seconds earlier as she'd rushed down the corridor.

Michaela stared instantly towards Rebecca, the sheer terror in her expression masked only by the worried tears that had begun to cloud her eyes.

All movement within the room froze, each sister remaining fixed in their respective position, Rebecca between the ajar doorway and the bed, Michaela between the bed and the window, and Marjorie, her left hand still drawn to her hip, at the end of the bed; between them.

Marjorie frowned, seeing the desperation in the way her younger sister glared back towards Rebecca. As she turned, Marjorie noticed her older sister's eyes widened so subtly, that she knew that underlying communication was taking place.

Still, time stood still, as Marjorie alternated her eyes between each sister. Slowly, her mouth opening, until she could eventually manage to put words to her deduction.

"Oh my Lord… you _are_ pregnant?" The room fell into a deathly silence.


	73. Chapter 73

**Chapter 73**

Marjorie Quinn dropped her right hand from her chin. It came to rest against her skirt, and without realizing it, she began tapping it against her side, one eyebrow raised as she spoke.

"Well? Is someone going to let me in on the little… oh, who are we fooling… _large_ secret. Not that secret is even the appropriate word… how about… scandal, disgrace… _outrage!_" Marjorie speculated, her voice harshening with each adjective. The vigor of her right hand knocking against her skirt increased.

"Be quiet, Marjorie," Rebecca scolded fiercely. Her eyes narrowed as she crossed the room to physically place herself between each sister.

"Why, what ever for, Rebecca?" She muttered sarcastically. "Now I see exactly why you changed the subject so abruptly at supper last night… How long?" Marjorie noticed the movement of her right hand, and deliberately brought it up to cross over her left, until both arms were crossed tightly against her chest.

"Since… yesterday…" Rebecca secured her arm on Michaela's shoulder, more concerned at the distress upon her face.

"Not _that_… I mean, how long, Michaela? How long before Mother will have to start knitting little things…" Marjorie's hands flew wildly from her chest, as she took a step backwards and began slowly pacing around the room.

"That… is none of your business." Rebecca moved away from Michaela's side, to address her outspoken sister.

"Oh, I think it's every bit my business… My unmarried sister's… I don't even want to think about it… _Michaela Quinn_… just what on _earth_… I would have thought _you,_ of any of us… would have been the last…" Marjorie turned back around, her nasty glare of accusation was greeted by her older sister's presence directly in front of her.

"Leave her alone, Marjorie!" Rebecca's voice was unconsciously raised.

"Well, you _would_ defend her, wouldn't you… always were as thick as thieves… even thirty years ago. I couldn't get away with anything, you'd be running to Mother or Father… whereas little Miss Michaela here… could justify her way out of any situation… no matter how _naughty_ she'd been…" Marjorie deliberately emphasized the single word, as her eyes returned to her younger sister's withdrawn form.

"I mean it, Marjorie… outside!" Rebecca took a step forwards, and reached firmly for her sister's arm. Marjorie, however, effortlessly evaded her grasp, and merely used the movement to reposition herself between Michaela and Rebecca.

"Why? Why should I? She's definitely _old_ enough, and she can _certainly_ speak for herself… I think we _all_ know that. Well, Michaela? And you a doctor… you can't even blame a mess like this on ignorance…" Marjorie rolled her eyes, her voice dripping in judgment.

"Shut _up_, Marjorie… you have no idea what you're talking about…" Rebecca scolded, and tried to reach again for her sister's arm.

"Oh… I think I'm quite well versed on men worming their way into a woman's bed. Why else would she have fled back here? Now, I know Mother was never thorough when it came to such education… but _really, _Michaela…" Marjorie baulked, as Rebecca succeeded in clamping her hand around her sister's upper arm.

Michaela lowered her head, and kept her eyes locked through the window, on the colorful, neatly kept garden below. _Speak up for yourself… why are you letting her walk all over you like this?_

"Out… _now_…" Rebecca squeezed her sister's arm with more force than she'd thought possible.

"_Oww_… all right, all right… but at the very least, I'd like an explanation. I mean, had I not come here… neither of you had any intentions of informing _any_ of the family about this… _indiscretion."_ Marjorie flung her arm from Rebecca's grasp, and took several deep breaths, allowing her fury to calm.

"I… no…" Rebecca considered the disclosure for all of several seconds, before quickly changing her mind.

"Well… how did this happen… when… who…" Marjorie sighed noisily, and for the first time noticed that her younger sister hadn't actually uttered a sound since she had entered the room minutes before.

"Marjorie!" Rebecca criticized, disgusted by her sister's candor. She tried once again, to direct the light-haired woman to the door. It was to no avail; Marjorie Quinn had absolutely no intentions of moving from the position she'd placed herself in without the information she sought.

"I… am not leaving here… until I have some answers. Now, either _she_ starts talking, or _you_ do… or I'll ask for _Mother's_ _assistance." _Marjorie sneered, as her right eyebrow raised once again.

"If you know what's good for you, Marjorie, you will not breathe one word of this to anyone; not to Mother; not to _anyone_,"Rebecca felt the empty threat leave her lips, aware that she had absolutely no way of ensuring her sister's compliance.

"Why should I? My youngest sister moves halfway across the country… and within two years, she's forgotten everything she was raised to… Tell me, Michaela… is this just the tip of the iceberg of some secret life you were leading out there? Three children weren't enough, so you were just letting anyone into your skirts? Or was a wedding simply too much trouble?" Marjorie cleared her throat, waiting for a response.

Rebecca felt her mouth drop open silently, trying to decide how best to stop her sister's destructive rampage. She watched Michaela turn slightly, both arms curled against her chest, as she kept her eyes locked on the view from the window.

"What? Too ashamed to answer? Too ashamed to even _look_ at me…?" Marjorie took a step forwards, about to physically demand her younger sister's attention, when Rebecca's oddly strained voice filled the room.

"_Enough!_ Marjorie…" She swallowed, and quickly concocted the lie. "Marjorie… she… it was an accident!" Rebecca was cut-off immediately, Marjorie's face turning bright red.

"_I'll say!_" Marjorie gasped, as Rebecca pressed on.

"What I meant, was that, Michaela simply… let things go too far… and…" Rebecca locked eyes with her youngest sister, the pair's unspoken bond allowed her to pick up Michaela's agreement. "and… regrets what has happened…" she cleared her throat, as Marjorie swiftly formed a judgmental opinion.

"Well, I should certainly think so… however, that fails to explain her presence here…" Marjorie resumed her slow pacing around the end of the bed.

"She was seeing a doctor when she honestly did take ill. That is the truth." Rebecca's voice returned to its normal pitch, as Marjorie's only intensified.

"So, this was just an unscheduled visit? Has he even the decency to marry you, Michaela?" Marjorie addressed sharply, her face quickly animating with another more demanding concern, "Who did this, anyway…" Marjorie's barrage of questions continued.

"_Marjorie_, I really don't think that's appropriate…" Rebecca realized Michaela's mental presence in the conversation had long-since vanished, and she may as well have not even been in the room.

"How foolish… it was that… that… Sully, wasn't it?" Marjorie answered her own question, and continued on, her spontaneous movements becoming more erratic. "I should have known after the last time. Why, we thought after some time, perhaps we'd hear of an engagement. even a wedding, no matter how unplanned or hasty, would have been better than _this_!" Marjorie gestured back towards her sister, having also realized Michaela was merely a bystander in the discussion.

"You've no right, standing in judgment, Marjorie! Not after your recent… developments," Rebecca felt the words fly from her mouth, never normally allowing herself to speak with such lack of control.

"Excuse me! At least I _was_ married!" she retorted, not appreciating the truth in her older sister's outburst.

"Then you obviously missed something from one of Mother's little talks… if you failed to keep him in _your_ bed alone…" Rebecca turned directly towards Marjorie, the two quickly losing themselves in a rapidly-paced banter of anger and jealousy.

"Be grateful _I_ managed to put the wedding _before_ the wifely duty! Not the other way around! Unlike… some…" Marjorie's hands gripped to her waist furiously.

"Well, obviously not with any degree of success if Everett took off with every harlot in town behind your back!" Rebecca tilted her head deliberately.

"Why, you nasty, vicious…" Marjorie took a violent step towards her older sister, and raised her right hand. About to strike her across the face, Rebecca managed to grasp her wrist tightly.

Rebecca's voice was low, and evenly-paced, "…if you want to keep some shred of decency to your name, you'll forget you ever saw Michaela here this morning… you'll forget all of this…"

"Or what?" Her voice was snaky and dripping with anger.

"Or… Mother will find out that a daughter of hers dared to turn her own husband away. To the point where he resorted to cheap whores and common chambermaids. You open your mouth, just once Marjorie, and Mother will know _exactly_ how you failed your own vows… and she'll _never_ forgive you!" Rebecca directed the index finger of her right hand squarely against her sister's chest. She loathed having to resort to blackmail, however, knew in her heart, it was warranted.

"What makes you think I could care what Mother thinks?" Marjorie objected, although the raised pitch of her voice gave away her nervousness.

"Oh, I know you do. Aside from that, you forget; our trusts are still in her name. Until she dies, the remainder of Father's estate is held entirely within her power. So unless you want to end up _living like_ one of those whores; working in some cheap hotel or saloon…" Rebecca narrowed her eyes, knowing that, if nothing else, the threat of poverty would force her sister into obedience.

"All right! I'll… I won't say a word…" Marjorie tossed her hands up in the air, admitting defeat. As she turned back to Michaela, Marjorie's voice lowered to a hurt whisper, "What has _she_ ever done to secure such devotion?"

"Michaela… would never go behind someone's back… just to make herself look good…" Rebecca took another careful step towards Marjorie. Her voice was succinct and honest, "Michaela… would never cut somebody's hair… out of spite… out of envy…"

"For heaven's sake, Rebecca, I was twelve years old!" Marjorie retorted dismissively.

"And yet… here we are all over again… you'd have not hesitated for a _moment_ to run to Mother with this news; just to take some of the unwanted attention and gossip off of yourself…" Rebecca gestured with her left hand, back to Michaela, who remained turned towards the window.

"So?" Marjorie snapped back quickly.

"When will you be able to grow up, Marjorie! Stop this jealousy and bitterness. Can't you see that Michaela has worked for everything she's had… all those years… you were enjoying parties… and dances… whilst your sister was studying, or working with Father… can't you see that you've both had the same opportunities… You can't hate her for making more of them than yourself," Rebecca's voice softened as she noticed the tension in the room begin to dissipate.

Marjorie shook her head, her tone stilted, "I… I don't hate her… I… I'm sorry…" Marjorie turned away, feeling the tears sting against her eyelids. "Don't you see… since Everett, I… I feel as though it's just been so unfair… What did I ever do to deserve this… that I'm being punished, for being so horrible to everyone…"

"Marjorie… there…" Rebecca rubbed her sister's arm soothingly, "Life's not about that… life isn't some children's game where someone keeps score, and dishes out the punishments to keep everything even… No-one chooses our paths for us… When will you see that family… is not your enemy… that… I can love you just as much as I love Michaela… as much as I love my own children… that… I just want you to be happy." Rebecca's hand stopped on her sister's shoulder, as she saw her sever the eye contact.

"I think it's too late for that." Marjorie pulled her eyes away from Rebecca's.

As she moved her eyes over the lifeless room, Marjorie saw that her younger sister, had turned her attention away from the window for the first time throughout their heated conversation. Michaela kept her gaze lowered, her jacket was clutched tightly in her arms, and tears trailed down her cheeks.

"It's never too late... it's up to you…" Rebecca concluded, only then noticing Marjorie's distracted glare.

Marjorie frowned and looked back towards Rebecca confused, "Why… why is she crying?" Her expression was concerned, with only a mild trance of cynicism.

"It's all right. Marjorie, will you wait downstairs… for a moment," Rebecca arrived by Michaela's side, and awkwardly reached for her shoulders, not knowing whether or not she would rebuke the physical contact.

"I…" Marjorie was unnerved by the vacancy and distress in her younger sister's eyes, and without hesitation, departed from the room.

Rebecca waited until she heard the door close, before she pulled Michaela's weak and crumpling form against her shoulder. "It's all right…" she whispered, softly, as a mother would when comforting a hurt child.

Rebecca could feel her sister's anguished breath, warm and irregular against the edge of her right ear. She wasn't remotely prepared for the strangled, harrowed sob which slowly built from her sister's throat, until she had to roughly clasp her hands around Michaela's back to stop her collapsing against her.

"I'm sorry… I… I'm sorry…" Michaela's voice wavered, as each word broke through the silence of the room surrounding them.

Rebecca secured her arms protectively against her younger sister's back, as she felt her upper body wither against her, wracked with indescribable sobs and whimpers.

"I'm sorry… I… please… please help me, Becca… please…" Michaela kept her arms tightly clenched against her chest, having seen through her older sister's defense only minutes earlier, that she could trust her.

"Ssh… ssh… everything will be all right… she's gone… it's all right…" Rebecca began a steady patting against her sister's back. She could feel the frailness of her ribcage beneath her hands, as Michaela's breathing continued in short pants.

"No… it… it's not her…" She slid her chin over her sister's shoulder, until it settled comfortably in the hollow of her neck.

"I know… I know you're scared, Michaela. I… I'm sorry sweetheart… I wish I'd known about this. I wish I'd been able to be there for you," Rebecca cradled the back of her sister's head tightly, as her eyes dropped closed miserably.

"It's all my fault. I brought this on myself." Michaela unclenched her hands, and allowed them to fall weakly to her side.

"Please don't say that… I'm sure you…" Rebecca consoled, Michaela was much sharper in her reply.

"No, I…" Her eyes dropped closed as she pressed harder against her sister's shoulder. "I let… I… I didn't stop it…" Michaela grasped the edges of her skirt violently, as she felt her sister's embrace soften.

"It's all right…" She stroked Michaela's slightly damp hair, which clumped together messily against her back. "You didn't have a choice, Michaela…"

"I shouldn't be here… I should have died… I… had a choice… I chose this…" Michaela opposed her sister's previous statement, however it only served to further confirm the guilt in her own mind.

"I know that's what you think now… it's what we're brought up with… indoctrinated with. You mustn't think about that, though…" Rebecca blinked several times, vague images forming in her mind, although truly having no way of imagining what her sister had survived.

"It's all I can think about… Even at the time, part of me didn't want to survive it… and had it not been for the children, then… I don't think I would have," Michaela's voice cracked, as she buried her nose and mouth harder into her sister's shoulder.

"Ssh… I know what they mean to you… you love them…" Rebecca adjusted her stance, feeling the weight of her sister's upper body against her, although, not for a moment objecting to it.

"I know I've been terrible to them… especially Brian. I… just can't make sense of it all. I can't stop feeling this way; ashamed… and…" Michaela let the undeniable notion settle in her mind.

"And… as if you almost blame them. I understand," Rebecca took a chance with the suggestion, knowing that her sister's silence alone, was a powerful indication of truth. "Michaela, you don't have to explain it to me, we were brought up by the same parents… I know exactly how guilty you would have felt… why do you think I said those things to Marjorie… I _promise_ you, I'll never let Mother learn of any of this… I promise, no-one beside us, will ever know how this really happened. I'm truly sorry about Marjorie, I should have considered after supper last night, that she'd wish to make her presence felt…" Rebecca felt Michaela lift her head from her right shoulder, although her eyes remained lowered.

"I don't care about her… how can I… I… I'm carrying this child… I… how can I care what Marjorie thinks," Michaela broke off into an uneven sob, her crying strengthening, as Rebecca supportively wrapped her arms around her back once again.

Rebecca remained still throughout Michaela's howling cries, feeling her heart physically hurt with the fear she heard in her sister's drawn-out moans. "It will be all right…" Rebecca cupped her hands around the back of her sister's shoulders, allowing her to rock soothingly against her for several minutes.

"I… wish everyone would stop saying that… because, it won't be… it won't…" Michaela waited until the tears had dried against her cheeks, before she pulled away from her sister's side.

Rebecca gently guided her towards the large bed, both sitting down on the edge of the mattress. Noticing the dark wooden hairbrush on the small table by the bed, Rebecca reached for it, and repositioned herself slightly, to begin untangling the strands of Michaela's hair.

"I just wish I could somehow stop this. I spoke with William yesterday… I all but pleaded with him to help you… he said there's nothing he can do…" Rebecca ran the brush carefully down her sister's back. She wasn't sure if Michaela would respond, however, soothingly continued brushing until she heard her distant voice.

"I know. I knew from the minute I realized myself. I tried what I could, but… nothing worked… Coming here was my last chance." Michaela kept her hands clasped in her lap, aware of the deep-seated hopelessness and discomfort that filled every inch of her being.

"Michaela, we know… About the other doctor… and… what happened at the hotel… I know how desperate you are, how confused you were…" She started on a fresh handful of hair, somehow realizing that without the demand of eye contact, Michaela found it easier to talk.

"I'm sorry… I don't know what I… I just wanted it to stop… I should never have put Brian through that," Michaela allowed herself to reflect on the earlier incidents in the hotel room. She could still hear her son's shattered sobs as she'd chastised him for breaking the glass.

"He's just glad you're all right. He loves you so much, Michaela." Rebecca tidied the bottom of her sister's long, delicate tresses, noticing how it shined against the morning sunlight.

"I know. That's what made it so hard. All I could keep seeing was his face… all I could hear was his voice…" Michaela felt her sister gather her hair loosely and begin plaiting it.

Michaela let her eyes drop closed as her sister delicately completed the significant task of bringing her hair into a single plait.

"You did the right thing," Rebecca secured the pale crimson ribbon to the end of the long braid, and tapped Michaela on the shoulder lightly, to indicate she'd finished.

Michaela nodded weakly, as she felt her sister rise from the bed beside her.

"Ellen'll be in her room Michaela, if there's anything you need," Rebecca watched the unexpected smile flash across her younger sister's face.

"Rebecca… I can ride a horse, drive a wagon, start a fire… and milk a cow… I'm perfectly capable of making myself a cup of tea…" Michaela's voice resonated with mock humor.

"I know… I'm sorry. I forget how different your life is now…" Rebecca turned back towards the door, trailing off at her insensitive comment.

"Indeed," Michaela drew an uncomfortable breath, but nonetheless pushed herself up from the bed and crossed the room.

"Please, do make yourself at home, though. I… just didn't want you to think you need spend the days cooped up here…" Rebecca stepped out into the hallway as Michaela quickly slipped on some shoes and arrived behind her.

"Thank-you," she whispered, as she reached for her sister's arm. "Best say goodbye to Brian…" Michaela and Rebecca arrived at the top of the stairs.

"And I'd best come up with some explanation for our sister." Rebecca shook her head wearily, as Michaela moved away along the corridor towards Brian's bedroom.

**X.O.X**

Grace brought the wooden spoon to her lips slowly, as she savored the rich potato and leek soup she'd spent the majority of the morning tending to. As the warm, flavorsome liquid seeped into her mouth she startled at the sensation of a hand on her shoulder. The spoon hurtled with a splash to the large pot below.

"Robert E.!" She scolded, and awkwardly retrieved the spoon which had sunk deep into the full pot of simmering soup.

"Sorry… sorry… shoulda known better…" Robert E. pulled the dark cap from his head and smiled apologetically. From her reaction, he couldn't guess for certain whether she was truly annoyed or not.

"I should say so… One day, you're gonna get burnt…" Grace chuckled, and quickly dropped the smile from her face, as she remembered the events from several years earlier. "I'm sorry… I was only," she trailed off, and looked away.

"Don't be silly… come over here… got a surprise for ya…" Robert E. grinned secretively, as Grace relented and moved the simmering pots from the stove.

"All right, but mind you, ain't got all day.. got customer's be comin' in a few hours right after church…" she fussed, although the significance of the day was not lost on her.

It was exactly one year ago today, that they had been married. She hoped her husband hadn't forgotten, and from the childish glimmer in his eyes, guessed he had not.

"Stop ya fussin', woman… only take a minute…" Robert E. reached politely for her right hand, and led her away from the café, towards their house.

"Robert E. if this is just you foolin' with me… I'll…" Grace protested as they walked side-by-side up the alleyway towards the main street.

"Ain't foolin'…" he denied, as he cleared his throat and warmly gripped her hand.


	74. Chapter 74

**Chapter 74**

Michaela tapped lightly on the door to the boy's room. "Brian?" She didn't hesitate to turn the knob and poke her head into the room, a premature smile already on her face.

The scene which greeted her, was the furthest from possible expectation. Her eyes froze on the two children, their attention still held by the game they were engrossed in. Both were unaware of the intrusion.

Penelope, who was flat on her back in the middle of the bed, giggled nervously, one hand on her 'stomach', the other buried in the many layers of her skirt and petticoats.

Brian was knelt at the end of the bed, his head and shoulders slightly obscured by the edge of his cousin's skirt.

"Can't see nothin' yet… where… what'd you do with it…" He muttered, his voice accented to indicate the 'pretendness' of the game. The two ten year-olds, despite their differences, had realized very quickly in the past two days, that, differences or not, they had in each other, ideal partners, for one very realistic game of mothers and fathers.

"It's coming… can't you…?" Penelope fumbled under her skirt, the small doll she'd hidden there, had become lost in the cluster of lace and cotton folds.

Michaela reacted immediately to the sight of her son under her niece's clothing, never for a moment considering the plausible explanation.

"Brian Cooper!" she fumed, her jaw dropped open, as both children glared across at her, their faces a mix of guilt, embarrassment and sheer terror.

"M-Ma! We… we… were… ah…" Brian struggled to untangle himself, and in his panic, slipped from the edge of the bed, landing unceremoniously into a heap onto the floor.

"We were… only playing…" Penelope hung her head, as she delicately retrieved the china doll from underneath her pale pink skirt.

Michaela alternated her glance between each of the red-faced children for several moments, as she nodded in acceptance of their explanation.

"Ma… really… swear it weren't… what it looked like…" Brian remained on the floor, his small head of messed up blond hair popping up against the mattress as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Honestly, Aunt Michaela," Penny tried to keep her expression serious, however she turned at exactly the wrong moment to check on Brian, and both children were sent into fits of laughter.

"All right… settle down both of you…" Michaela rolled her eyes, knowing that Brian expected her to make a big deal out of their antics. "Your Mother says it's time for church." Michaela watched as Brian rose to his feet and carefully dusted himself off. Penelope did likewise, slipping from the edge of the bed and in a very lady-like manner, straightened her clothing.

"Do I gotta go to church, Ma?" Brian whispered quietly, as Penelope finished re-arranging her skirt.

"Have to go, Brian," Michaela corrected. "You don't want to?" She rested her hand on the boy's left shoulder.

"Not really," he winced, and stared down at the floor.

Michaela glanced across at the curious expression on her niece's face. "Well, I'd like you to go, I'm sure you'll find it interesting. You remember going to church last time, don't you?" Michaela realized that allowing Brian to avoid church would create a conflict of interests between Penelope and himself.

"The fancy music… and… the glass windows… will Grandma be there like last time?" Brian's face lit up eagerly, as Michaela straightened his fair hair.

"Yes, she will," Michaela sighed, and turned back towards the door.

"Can't wait to tell her what's been happening… hardly got to talk to her at the hospital…" He dropped his voice, "Aunt Rebecca was kinda mean to her…"

Michaela saw the defensive look play on Penelope's face, and turned towards her, "Penny… please go and tell your Mother that Brian will only be a few minutes…" Michaela waited until the young girl had left the room before turning back to her son.

"Ma… I didn't mean she was 'mean' mean… just…" Brian defended himself immediately.

"It's not that, Brian…" Michaela closed the door once again, and gestured towards the boy's bed. They each sat down, Brian crossed his legs eagerly, and faced towards his mother.

"Sweetheart… you're not in trouble… I… I need to ask you to do something for me…" Michaela frowned, and looked away from the boy.

"What, Ma?" He turned his head and leaned closer towards her.

"Brian… I need you to promise me, you won't tell Grandma… about…" she stammered, barely able to bring herself to utter the words, "… the baby… Do you think you can keep it a secret?" Michaela's eyes shifted uncomfortably between the dark maroon rug under her feet, and Brian's confused expression.

"I… I guess so… Ma… I don't understand, though… won't she be excited… happy?" He chewed lightly on his lower lip, having found his mother's behavior since they'd left home wildly unpredictable and alarming. One day she was yelling at him, the next refusing to speak… and now; now she appeared perfectly normal.

"No, Brian…" Michaela shook her head sadly, and narrowed her eyes as Brian took the thought one step further.

"Is it like what Penny said… is it coz you ain't married?" Brian gestured towards the door, from where his cousin had just left.

"Yes, sweetheart… Your Grandmother… you know life… is different here, don't you?" Michaela wasn't sure how to explain her reasons for the deception. However, she knew she had to.

"Yeah… like Penny's room is bigger than the homestead… and… Ellen calls me 'Master Brian'," he offered quickly with an amused laugh.

"I suppose…" she paused, "well… other things are different also, Brian… I don't think Grandma would find it easy to understand those differences… because she lives _here._ Do you think you can understand that?" Michaela reached across to slowly stroke the child's arm.

"I… guess so… like how Aunt Rebecca didn't know the difference between the Indians and the dog soldiers… things ain't the same…" He nodded keenly in comprehension, missing Michaela's small flinch.

"Exactly," she replied curtly, slightly unnerved at what her sister must have been told.

"Oh… I promise, Ma… won't say nothin' about the baby…" Brian reassured her confidently as he uncrossed his legs and prepared to slip off the edge of the bed.

"Sweetheart… do you like it here?" Michaela glanced slowly around the room, before eventually letting her eyes come to rest on his small form.

"Guess so…" He dropped his head. "Kinda miss Colleen and Matthew though… and Sully…"

"So do I," Michaela reflected back to the last time she'd seen Sully, that evening in the alleyway after the play.

"But Ma… don't want you to be sad no more… so if you wanna stay here… and be happy… then that's all right…" He spoke tenderly, each word having been deliberately considered.

"Oh, Brian… come here…" Michaela extended her left arm to the boy, as he crawled across the small distance between them and clung to her side.

Michaela moved her left hand slowly up and down the child's arm and shoulder, feeling his head bury against her chest, and his ribcage move with each breath he took. "Sweetheart… I love you… everything's going to be all right…" She squeezed him tighter against her side, before letting her grasp weaken, looking down at him just as he looked up.

"I know, Ma… Sully said so…" Brian reassured as he slipped from the edge of the bed.

"He did?" Michaela frowned lightly, noticing the seriousness with which Brian had made the statement.

"Uh-huh… he said that when we're sad, we think we don't love people no more, but we do… like… like when my real Ma died, and we had to come live with you… I…" he hesitated slightly, "… didn't like ya at first… coz I was sad that Ma died… but… then when I stopped bein' sad, I really did like ya…" He stood closely beside her, and reached for her hands.

"I'm sorry everything has been so frightening for you. I'm sorry you've had to see me sad… but being with you… and watching you have fun… makes me less sad. Brian, do you think you can make me another promise?" Michaela clasped the boy's hands firmly. He tilted his head and leaned closer, so that his knees pressed in between hers against the mattress. "I want you to promise me, that if my being sad, ever makes you sad… that you'll tell me…" She whispered, feeling unbidden tears collect in her eyes once again.

"Promise, Ma…" He looked deeply at her for what seemed like a long time, before pulling his hands from hers and throwing them around her back. "After church… Penny was gonna make me sit and listen to her do her piano practice… maybe you could sit with us… make it less boring?" He felt her arms lock around his back.

"We'll see, You'd better be going, don't want to hold everyone up…" Michaela released the child from her affectionate grasp, as he planted a soft kiss on her cheek, and jogged towards the doorway.

"Bye, Ma…" He shrugged lightly, aware of the tinge of nervousness at his eminent departure.

Michaela rose to her feet with a simple smile, as he scooted quickly from the room. She wrapped her arms across her chest, gripping her upper arms with her hands, as she heard the child's footsteps fade along the corridor.

She felt an unfamiliar confidence radiate form her mind, down to her chest. Without being aware of it, her head eased into a gentle nodding movement, as she paced from the edge of the boy's bed across to the open doorway.

Michaela found herself unable to identify the strange sense of assurance that had begun to creep over her; she just knew she felt differently. From the warmth of Brian's hands interlocked with her own, to the sensation of his small lips upon her cheek for a spontaneous kiss, Michaela allowed the calmness to spread along her arms, and throughout the rest of her body.

As she walked silently along the corridor to the top of the landing, she could hear the commotion as the family departed through the front door below, oblivious to her presence.

**X.O.X**

"Really, Robert E., now if that soup burns…" Grace threatened as they crossed the main street and he led her towards their new home.

"Here… just wanna show ya what I been workin' on…" They arrived only yards from their front porch, as Grace noticed the large object on the verandah, a dirty old blanket thrown over it. "Made it for ya… know we been so busy savin' for the house and all, but still wanted to give ya something special… for today," he whispered, as a smile grew across his face.

"Oh, Robert E., you didn't have to do nothin' special… just our house… and havin' you…" The couple arrived on the edge of the porch.

Robert E. cleared his throat and triumphantly pulled the blanket away.

"Oh!" Grace gasped, both hands drawing to her mouth as her eyes rested on the hand-carved, polished rocking chair.

He lowered his eyes, slightly embarrassed by her startled response; but in a good way. "Well…" He pulled the cap from his head. "… thought then you could sit out here when the weather's nice… sew… or…" He knew what he really meant, and by the far away, slightly dreamy look in her eyes, so did Grace.

"I know… we just gotta keep hopin'… it's only been a year…" she reassured herself, as she felt her husband's arm around her shoulders.

"That's right… only been a year… and we got a lot a years left to keep tryin'… this way… well… always have something to hope for…" Robert E. embraced her lightly against his chest, as Grace turned to kiss him softly.

"Thank-you…" she whispered.

"No… it's you I oughta be thankin'… you… helped me start my life again… after…" Robert E. felt his wife's fingers press against his lips tenderly.

"Ssh… don't gotta talk about that… not today… we both found a future in each other… and we're gonna have a good life together now… after what we've both been through… nothin's gonna stop that…" Grace dropped her eyes closed as she pressed tighter against her husband's chest, the pain of the brutal attack she suffered barely six months ago still fresh in her mind.

"You're right, Grace. After what we been through, we can face anything… long as we got each other…" his voice was smooth and balanced, as he rocked his wife gently against his chest.

After several moments of uninterrupted closeness, she pulled sharply away, the mood breaking. "Robert E., the soup!" Grace's eyes widened, as she frantically grabbed the hem of her long dress and dashed back towards the café, a small chuckle passing from her husband's lips at her speed.

"Oh, well… shame…" Robert E. dusted his tired hat in his worn hands, before he slipped it back onto his head, and strode calmly back to work.

**X.O.X**

Michaela descended the staircase, and walked slowly from the entrance hall across to the sitting room. The large house was very much like her mother's; elaborately decorated and furnished.

"Might I bring you some morning tea, Miss?" Ellen appeared in the room behind her. Michaela had not even been aware of the older woman's presence, until the chambermaid's voice pulled her out of a distant daydream.

"Oh… no… that's quite all right…" Michaela dismissed quickly, "Thank-you…" she added politely, as she crossed the room to the fireplace, the mantel of which was cluttered with an assortment of family photographs. Although they were mostly of Rebecca's children, there was one Michaela recognized; A family portrait taken over thirty years ago now. Michaela would have been no older than five, and was sat securely on her father's lap, the rest of the large family gathered around.

She fixed her eyes of the somber portrait for several minutes, before she carefully placed it back in its original position, and continued her intrigued roaming around the room. Michaela frowned with interest when she arrived at the large, chestnut upright piano which was in the front corner of the room.

Gingerly, she glided her hand over the piece of music which had been left open on the music stand; she immediately recognized the piece: Bach's Sonata number fourteen. A small smile animated her otherwise numb expression, as her fingers drifted over the printed notes, before Michaela nervously glanced around the room, ensuring she was alone.

Satisfied that she had ample privacy, Michaela returned the music to the wooden ledge, and slowly slid the heavy wooden bench out from under the instrument. As she settled herself awkwardly in front of the keyboard, her hands fell naturally against the ivory keys. Michaela took another glance between the music and her correctly positioned hands, before she slowly, and with delicate precision, began the first few bars of the work:

~~ Listen here… ~~

She squinted her eyes slightly, as she continued through the once well-rehearsed movement.

Her Uncle Teddy had given her lessons alongside her cousin when they had both been very young children.

However, her mother had soon put a stop to that: _"No daughter of mine shall waste her time on such precocious and attention-seeking endeavors"._ Michaela chuckled lightly to herself, as she heard her mother's heartless words play out in her mind, as if they'd been said only yesterday.

Michaela shook her head as the chuckle dissolved, as if her career path, if not her entire life had not been just as precocious and attention-seeking.

Hesitantly, she increased the tempo of the music, as her confidence reignited, and she found herself swept away by the emotional journey that each note, each phrase took her on.

She felt the richness of each carefully placed note fill her mind, unaware of the complex skills being utilized in the translation on black dots on a faded piece of manuscript, to the living work of art that engulfed her, in which time itself, stood still.

Her mind drifted.

_You have had a privileged life, Michaela… and the people who matter will support you… Rebecca… William…_

She turned the brown-edged page of the music, and continued playing. Each soothing phrase took her further into her thoughts.

_Everyone's gone out of their way to take care of… damn it… it's not fair. Why should they? Why do I have to have people looking after me… treating me like some…_

The speed of her playing increased slightly.

_Why do I have to need them… need anyone… Why did I have to let myself end up in such a mess… _She drew a breath, hesitating over a note momentarily. _Don't fool yourself, Michaela… you know that's not so. Why don't you listen to what people have been saying… Colleen, the doctors… even Rebecca…_

She was reminded of the promise she'd made herself the night before leaving Colorado Springs: "_I would rather die…"_ She knew that wasn't true… she knew it was only guilt.

Michaela felt her fingertips glide sleekly over the smooth keys, as she turned another page, and continued through the more familiar passages.

Her thoughts moved quickly away from the blandness of the notes on the page, once again sinking deeper into the tranquility of the music surrounding her.

_You're only here because it's safe, Michaela… you can't deceive yourself, you were only running… it was utter foolishness, there's more shame here, than there ever would have been had you simply stayed… and admitted the truth… to the town… to Sully._

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her chest tightened as her playing slowed.

_He won't blame you, despite how much you believe to the contrary. Trust that he won't…_

She looked down at her small hands, as they proficiently covered the length of the arpeggio. Michaela alternated her gaze swiftly between the music and her hands, as she struggled through a difficult modulation.

_How could he accept… love… a child… like this… a child that is not even his…_

Michaela banished the thought immediately; she did not even want such a child… the very thought repulsed her just as powerfully in that instant as it had months ago when she'd first entertained the notion, and then five weeks ago when she had discovered the dreaded reality.

Such loathing only strengthened the guilt already settled within her. This was not how she'd planned her life; although none of the events in the past few years had been remotely conventional. They had, however, been her choice. Michaela knew her feelings towards this pregnancy were influenced more by lack of personal control, than through any of the more 'obvious' undesirable aspects.

Although she had not had a choice regarding the situation she was in, Michaela knew she had a choice regarding her own actions. She'd not considered an alternative plan until now, however, knew she would need to wait a few more days, until William thought her fit to travel; and send Brian home. She would need to find somewhere – she knew there were places – she would need to disappear.

_Oh, God…_

She dropped her head back, and her eyes glanced up hopelessly towards the ceiling. She couldn't stand it. Every time she thought of the baby growing inside her, she didn't see… a baby…

The pace of her playing slowed, and became more stilted as her thoughts drained her concentration.

She didn't see a baby… not like little Mike… or any of the Indian children she'd treated at the reservation. On the few occasions Michaela actually allowed herself to consciously be aware of the life developing within her, she couldn't feel the unblemished excitement she always believed she would.

It wasn't the same.

It was cold, detached.

_It's not fair… this isn't how this is meant to be… I'm supposed to want this… I'm supposed to feel something… what's wrong with me… why can't I… make sense of this… why do I have to feel this way?_

_What am I so afraid of?_

She knew the answer and quickly challenged it.

_That doesn't make any difference… You're a doctor, Michaela… you know… it was just… just…_

She couldn't believe of the possible explanations that presented themselves to her. Just fate? God's will? Just the way things were meant to be? She knew scientifically that… it was just something that had happened… coincidence… it could not have been prevented… however, explanations she could live with, tolerate, were not as forthcoming and apparent.

Michaela breathed out softly, feeling her chest drop wearily, as she turned the final page of the first movement of the sonata. She felt tired… she felt uncomfortable and cramped.

She returned her attention forcefully to the music, determined to at least finish this movement and had just managed to absorb herself fully in the music, when a voice pulled her away.

"I didn't know you played…" William had been quietly ushered into the entrance hall several minutes earlier, when he had heard the music floating in from the sitting room.

"William?" she gasped, ceasing playing immediately. "I… I don't… well, I haven't for many years…" she blushed, noticing the impressed smile upon his face. Michaela slid carefully out between the bench and the piano, and turned back to him as he spoke.

"Pity. It would be a shame to waste such talent." He blinked, and locked eyes with her sincerely. The smile which had grown on his lips was in response to her verbal acknowledgement of his presence rather than her musical gift, however he truly did find it charming. "I did tell you I would be seeing you today, did I not?" He frowned, at the confused look upon her face.

"I…" she shook her head and dismissed her confusion with mild embarrassment, "I'm sorry… I didn't recall…" Michaela had arrived by his side, as he gestured towards the staircase behind him.

"Don't apologize, please… why don't we…" He muttered warmly, as Michaela nodded automatically and they both made their way towards the stairs to begin climbing. "You've been feeling well?" He glanced back over his right shoulder as they continued up the staircase.

"I've been fine," Michaela frowned slightly, suddenly realizing just where this conversation was heading. Or rather, what was going to happen once they arrived upstairs.

"And it is good you've been moving around…" he trailed of, almost unnerved by her calm manner and speech.

Michaela followed William along the corridor, slowing her pace in hesitation as he reached for the doorknob.

"Have a seat… ah… I… would you prefer if I summoned Ellen?" He queried professionally.

She dismissed the offer instantly, and stepped past him into the large bedroom. "Do we really have to? I assure you, I am quite fine…" Michaela paced to the end of the bed, and tapped the iron frame lightly. Her awkwardness was obvious.

William paused, and placed his black medical bag down slowly on the top of the chest of drawers to the right of the door. "Well, no… I'm not going to… insist… however, the events of the last three days, shall we say… have not exactly been… to be expected…" William brought his right hand forwards in gesture. Michaela scoffed subtly, and moved her eyes from his glance.

"_Nothing_ has been… expected…" she replied sarcastically, quickly catching herself and rephrasing, "I'm a doctor. I know how to monitor… someone in my condition… I assure you, if I believe there to be any complications, I'll," she looked back up at him sharply as he cut her off.

"Michaela, forgive my directness, however, the reason we are all here to begin with is because you…" He took a breath, and change the direction of his sentence immediately. "I simply meant… that… I took a great risk… personally… professionally in seeing you released yesterday… and I'd have done it all again without hesitation… however… as a physician, I do need to ensure your safety…" His voice dropped to a whisper, "I'm sorry that I needed to sound so… cold…"

She shook her head, "No… you are right. I'd have done the same thing… If it had been anyone else… I'd have been far less compassionate… I know you are only doing your job…" She looked away once again, remaining emotionally detached, as she slid up onto the edge of the bed, and reached to unclasp her pale crimson skirt.

"Thank-you…" He paused, glimpsing the unshielded determination and courage it took for Michaela to change her mind.

He completed the routine abdominal examination in silence, and slipped the stethoscope back into the large black bag.

"Michaela… Rebecca wasn't certain… and, at the hospital, Dr. Hodge could only estimate… how far along…" he snapped the bag closed as she dully replied.

"Eighteen weeks…" her voice was brazen and hasty.

"Gestation…? Or eighteen weeks…?" He saw the anger flame behind her once lifeless eyes.

"For heaven's sake! Twenty weeks gestation… eighteen weeks fetal development… does it really matter?" Michaela busied herself re-buttoning the small buttons of her silk blouse, feeling the frustration seethe within her without justification.

"You know it matters…" he paused, and adjusted his tone professionally, "you're underweight…" William took a step backwards, both of them taking a moment to recover from her previous outburst.

Michaela looked away and pushed the edges of her blouse roughly under her skirt.

"I… I'm sorry…" she refastened the clasp on the back on her skirt, and interlocked her fingers in front of her.

William nodded, as his face softened. Tentatively, he took a seat on the edge of the bed beside her, his hands resting on his medical bag as he stumbled awkwardly on his words. "Michaela… I meant everything I said to you yesterday… whether you believe it or not…" he ensured he still held her attention and continued, "… now, I've spoken with your sister… and I've also made discrete enquiries of my own… there's… a convent… it's run by a small group of Catholic nuns… predominantly for young girls faced with unwanted pregnancies… however… given the circumstances, they would be more than welcoming… and… it would give you privacy… and time to decide what you wish to do…" William studied her receptive gaze intently, unable to determine how she would respond to the offer.

"Is there no other way?" she whispered.

"I thought that would be… for the best… isn't that why you came here, Michaela? To avoid the scandal of the town… to escape him?" William turned his head, and kept his voice non-threatening.

"Sully?" she frowned, confused by the awkwardness in William's voice.

"Well, yes. Wasn't it he… who _did_ this to you?" he voiced boldly, as Michaela's face crumpled.

"Why would you think that?" she drew her right hand to her face, scolding herself for the ease at which tears collected in her eyes.

"I… well, your Mother informed me that you were courting… soon after you left last year. You can tell me the truth, Michaela. No matter what you think, you are not to blame," William saw the conflict on Michaela's reddened face.

She refused to meet his eyes, and instead, delicately pulled herself to the edge of the mattress, got to her feet and strolled around the end of the bed, her arms still clasped in front her.

"Even if you were engaged… it makes absolutely no difference… Michaela… at the hospital, you were examined… we know what he did to you… we know you were hurt. You don't have to protect him," William spoke slowly as she arrived by the window. It wasn't until his final statement that she turned abruptly, her jaw dropped, about to speak.

_You must tell him the truth, Michaela. Don't you dare take the easy way out. You know Sully doesn't deserve it. You owe it to him to be honest. Although if you'd been honest with him from the start… none of this…_

She blinked quickly and looked up at William. The voice which came from deep within her throat was coarse and hollow.

"It was not Sully." she informed him crisply. Too crisply. Her voice was too clinical.

"Michaela… I know it may seem easier to avoid something as painful as," He saw the raw fury glimmer once again in her eyes.

"I _told_ you, William, it was not Sully! How dare you!" Her throat hurt from the loud, strained response.

"Fine," he sighed, unconvinced by her denial, yet not willing to push the issue.

Michaela directed her attention back to the window as she heard him collect his bag from the side of the bed.

"Michaela… is it easier for you if I speak to you as a physician…?" He cleared his throat and waited for her to turn around.

She nodded blankly.

"You're significantly underweight, and anemic, Now, you've been extremely lucky up until this point to have not had more serious complications, but you need to ensure you get adequate sleep, even napping in the afternoon would be preferable until your health improves…" He paused, and deliberately emphasized his final order, "and, as unwelcome as it is, you need to acknowledge this child's existence. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh… however, unless you want to end hemorrhaging, and on permanent bed rest… you'll start taking proper care of yourself… and for the next five months, that includes this baby…" He knew she had understood his words. From the guilty look upon her face, he also knew she'd had similar thoughts.

"William, is there no other way? Is it really too late?" She lifted her gaze upwards, as he hovered in the doorway.

"You know it is. You've known it was too late from the start. Michaela. I have no reason to believe you're not carrying an otherwise healthy child. At some point, you need to accept that. It is your own flesh and blood as much as it is not. You've three children not even your own; would you suddenly love any of them the less if you discovered their creation had been…" He searched for an appropriate word, "... undesired?"

She turned away silently.

"I will make the necessary enquiries. You will be fit to travel by the end of the week. Michaela?" He rested his hand on the doorknob lightly, needing verbal confirmation.

"I'll go. I… I can send Brian home to Matthew and Colleen… they'll be taken care of," Her voice was resigned and empty.

"Very well…" He nodded slowly. "Michaela, everything I could possibly say to you… I know you already know… Rest… eat properly… don't exert yourself… I'll stop by again on Wednesday…" He saw her eyes drop closed and her chin move slightly; She'd heard him.


	75. Chapter 75

**Chapter 75**

William closed the door behind him, and quickly descended the staircase. As he crossed the foyer towards the front door, it opened before him, and two young children burst inside.

"Leave me alone! I don't wanna play anymore! Aunt Rebecca… she made me hold her hand all through church, I don't gotta anymore, do I?" Brian pulled away from Penny's contact, and turned around to his aunt for assistance.

"No, of course you don't. Penelope… leave Brian alone for the day… go and practice for your lesson tomorrow…" Rebecca and her husband arrived through the door, as William narrowly avoided colliding with the sprightly young children.

"Oh, Dr. Burke… I'm so sorry…" Rebecca gestured to the children; as Penelope disappeared into the sitting room, and Brian raced eagerly up the stairs.

"Not a bother, Mrs. Dickenson…" He took his hat and jacket from Ellen, who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and moved towards the cleared doorway.

"How is my sister?" Rebecca noticed the curt manner in which William had dismissed the children.

Edmund noticed the hesitance in the physician's response. "Son, I shall explain that calculation to you… the library…" He tapped his teenage son on the back sternly, and both moved down the hallway.

"She's been very fortunate, from what I can gather. Mrs. Dickenson, after talking with Michaela, I feel it would be in her best interests, to see out the remainder of the pregnancy in seclusion,"

"I think that would be wise, all things considered," Rebecca grimaced lightly.

"Michaela… still doesn't seem… amenable to that. I have tried to explain the situation to her… but she still vehemently opposes this pregnancy." William shifted the medical bag to his left hand, his hat still clutched in his right.

"Do you blame her? William… I can't think of anything worse…" Rebecca slipped the ornate cape from her shoulders.

"Granted, the situation is dismal… but from all accounts, her baby is perfectly healthy… and this is hardly new to her… she's known for months…" William shrugged lightly.

"But that wouldn't make it any easier… having something… so repulsive growing inside of you… William…" she reached for his hand, realizing she had over a decade on him. "I've had two children… both of which were created out of love… and were wanted. With that in mind, the strain of both pregnancies was not minimized by the reassurance I had knowing that my children would at least be born bearing resemblance to their parents. William… I suspect Michaela grew up with the same expectations. They've been shattered by what has happened; and as devoted as I am to my religious convictions… I find myself questioning, why any loving God would force such a child into existence. A child that is going to be deemed an outcast from the moment it is born, to grow up knowing nothing but hate," Rebecca shook her head pitifully as she gazed across the large space.

"Oh, Mrs. Dickenson, I do believe you're overreacting… there are plenty of children who come into this world unloved… but it doesn't have to stay that way. Why, Michaela and I have both worked in orphanages; we've seen the disabled, diseased children, discarded by heartless parents. But this is an otherwise healthy, newborn baby… I don't suspect the sisters will have any trouble finding adoptive parents…" William dismissed her concern, however looked down as Rebecca gripped his arm more firmly.

"You don't understand… this is… different." Rebecca's voice was slightly hushed, and William barely heard her.

"Of course, it's different… I understand that. I understand that this is your sister; that you wish to preserve her reputation as much as possible; that the scandal of a pregnancy under such circumstances would do irreparable damage to…" Rebecca looked away into the distance as William continued analyzing the situation.

Rebecca dropped her eyes closed for several seconds, as a single truth repeated itself again and again in her mind. "It was… an Indian…" Such a reality was so overpowering, she hadn't realized she'd voiced it until she saw that William had ceased his pragmatic ramblings.

"What? What did you say?" He folded his hands uncomfortably across his chest, and shifted his weight uneasily. He had heard only one word.

"Please don't make me say it again," Rebecca exhaled as she uttered the plea.

"How do you know this? Did… did Michaela tell you?" His voice was disjointed, his body language erratic.

"She hasn't told any of us, William. Brian was the one," Rebecca struggled to phrase the statement as diplomatically as she could.

The pair remaining in painful silence, as William worked through the development. When neither of them spoke further, he adjusted his hat, coat and bag in his arms, and looked away from her.

"I need to go… I… I have to… I have some work to do…" His tightened the grip on his bag, and moved towards the front door.

"Dr. Burke… I…" Rebecca stammered, feeling unsettled by the profound reaction her words had had on the physician.

"I shall… be in touch." He didn't even turn back to make eye contact, however slipped hurriedly through the front door.

Rebecca closed the door softly behind him, and listened as the sounds of clumsy piano playing filtered in from the next room.

"Lord, please give us strength…" She dropped her eyes closed in brief prayer, before taking a replenishing breath and heading for the stairs. She needed to check on her sister.

Rebecca tapped lightly on the ajar door. "Michaela?" she whispered, before hesitantly poking her head into the bedroom. The sight that greeted her melted her heart momentarily. Michaela lay, fast asleep on her left side, Brian sprawled on the bed beside her, his head cupped in his hands, merely watching her sleep.

"Ma's sleepin'," he mouthed silently, craning his head around to address his aunt.

"Oh…" she smiled; as if explanation was really necessary.

"Ya can come sit with us though," he suggested warmly.

Rebecca accepted the offer, and perched on the edge of the large bed, gently stroking the boy's back.

"Aunt Rebecca?" He whispered after a long while.

"Hmm?" she kept her voice low.

"If Ma has to go away… am I gonna get to go with her… or go home?" He mused, reflecting on his mother's recent disclosure.

"I… I think you'll go home, sweetheart…" Rebecca took in the innocence across the young boy's small face.

"How… how come Ma doesn't want to go home?" He rested his head in the palm of his right hand.

"Well… because she can't, Brian… it's not that she doesn't want to." Rebecca patted the child's back maternally.

"But, if she ain't done nothin' bad… then… I don't understand…" He struggled.

"It's complicated… Brian… perhaps when you're older, you'll be able to understand." Rebecca knew it wasn't her place to discuss the delicate subject.

"Why don't she just marry Sully… then no-one will be mad her havin' a baby… and he loves her; told me so. Even said he wouldn't care if she got fat," Brian turned his attention back to his mother.

"Everything will sort itself out, darling… don't you worry…" Rebecca consoled, as Brian pushed himself up carefully.

"Mind if I go play with Penny… will you stay with Ma?" He chewed on his lower lip, and, quickly receiving a nod in the affirmative, dashed from the room.

Rebecca turned her attention back to her sister's sleeping form. What a nightmare…

**X.O.X**

"Sully… will you calm down… I know ya worried… we all are… but ain't gonna make this train get there any faster…" Matthew reached for the man's shoulder, as Sully re-read the telegram that had been sent from Horace. It had been waiting for them at the station when they'd arrived in the stage the day before.

"I know… I know…" He breathed heavily. "Just… something don't feel right…" He glanced over the succinct words yet another time.

"All it says is that she's in the hospital… that she's ill… could be anything…" Matthew tried to rationalize, as he noticed Colleen kept her attention deliberately focused on the passing countryside around them. They'd been on the train several hours, and she had not uttered a single word.

"Well, ain't really gonna be good news, whatever it is…" Sully tucked his right knee under his chin, hands clasped around his ankle.

Matthew sighed, and crossed the small compartment to sit next to his sister. "You been quiet… the telegram upsettin' ya?"

"Guess… only, don't try to reassure me it's nothin'… I know exactly what she's been like these last few months… probably got desperate… tried… Forget it…" Colleen rolled her eyes, knowing her brother wouldn't want to hear her speculations.

"Ain't helpful to think like that, not if we gotta spend the next two nights crammed in here together…" He tried to sound mature, and composed.

"Fine." She concluded abruptly, and returned her attention to their moving surroundings.

Matthew sighed, feeling the solemn mood of the people around him, like a chilling wind in the middle of winter.

"Fine…" he sighed wearily.

**X.O.X**

**Monday, 11****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Can ya learn how to make this, Ma? What did ya say it was, Miss Ellen?" Brian shoveled another forkful of his dinner into his mouth hungrily.

"Honey carrots, Master Brian…" Ellen smile over from the dinner trolley across the room.

"Yeah… that's it…" He stood up and carefully spooned another large helping of the vegetables onto his plate.

"Brian…" Michaela shuddered at the boy's rather forward manner; however realized he simply knew no better.

"Sorry… was I…?" he stammered, seeing his cousin's condemning glare.

"It is proper to ask an adult to serve you, sweetheart…" Michaela directed, glancing apologetically around the table.

"But… if I did that… they'd take the food first… and I wouldn't get none…" Brian frowned, as Rebecca, her husband and Ellen chuckled lightly.

Michaela looked back down unenthusiastically at the merely pushed around food on her plate. She couldn't feel any less hungry.

"_Ow…_ what was that for…?" Brian jolted in his chair sharply, feeling his cousin's shoe strike his shin unexpectedly.

"Penelope Elizabeth Dickenson!" Rebecca scolded, seeing the bemused grin spread across her daughter's face.

"Go on…" The young girl prompted, Brian staring her down, however gently resting his cutlery down on the edge of his dinner plate.

"Ah… Ma?" He stuttered, swallowing the mouthful of carrots painfully, "Can… can we…" His jaw dropped.

"Might we…" she corrected tiredly, more out of duty in front of her family, than grammatical compulsion.

"Might we… borrow ya bag… I gotta be the doctor…" He enquired, his face melting into pure charm itself.

"Oh, I see… so that's what that little scene was in your room yesterday?" Michaela raised an eyebrow teasingly.

"Scene, what scene?" Edmund reacted defensively, glaring demandingly at his daughter.

"Noth… nothing, Father… we were playing…" Penny recoiled, wishing she'd never kicked Brian in the first place.

"So, can… sorry… might we Ma? Promise we'll be careful…" Brian's voice raised hopefully.

"I… I don't think so, children… it is not a toy… medical equipment costs a lot of money, Brian. You know that." Michaela was intrigued by the effect her niece was having on her son's usually rational, and disciplined behavior. The glimmer in his eye was mischievous.

"All right…" He turned back to Penelope with a disheartened shrug.

Everyone gradually resumed their meals. Glasses clinked and cutlery tinkled against fine china. Rebecca waited until she managed to catch her sister's eye, and with a simple glare, Michaela knew what she was trying to say. Ever since Michaela could remember, she and Rebecca had perfected what they called invisible communication. Whether it be at the dinner table, in church, or in a room with their Mother, the two sister's could convey meanings, and inferences, with often only a twitch of an eyebrow, or a hand movement.

This time, however, Michaela knew her sister's glare was directed squarely at herself. She glanced down at the arrangement of meat and mashed potato, surrounded by carrots and beans; what had started out as shepherd's pie and vegetables, had quickly ended up an unappetizing assortment of colors and textures.

She looked back up, as Rebecca took a deliberate sip from the glass in front of her. The older woman's glare remained fixed on her sister.

Michaela sighed, and gingerly slipped another small mouthful of food passed her lips. She felt bloated and uncomfortable to begin with, however, unemotionally repeated the action, until she'd made a noticeable impact on the quantity of food left on her plate.

"May I be excused?" Edmund Jr. placed his knife and fork neatly in the middle of his plate, and addressed his father.

"Before dessert, son?" came the flat reply.

"I have a Latin grammar exam tomorrow morning…" The young man justified, and was excused from the table. Rebecca waited until her son had left the room.

"Mother said you were just as bad… she said you'd slip little pieces of paper under the tablecloth, and secretly read them between courses…" Rebecca prompted jovially.

Michaela smiled weakly at the memory "Only when it came to bacteria…"

"What about the time Martha found the cow's heart in the ice chest… Mother tried to make Father ground you for a week… although, after you scored the highest mark in the biology quiz that week, he pointed out it was hardly fair to punish you for doing well in something…" Rebecca giggled as Michaela's cheeks reddened with superficial embarrassment.

"Rebecca, really…" Edmund tried to sway her from such graphic dinner conversation.

"No… I want to hear more about the cow's heart… was it all gross and bloody?" Penny chimed in eagerly.

"No… it was neatly dissected, I'll have you know… actually Martha thought it was Marjorie trying to scare her…" Michaela defended automatically.

"Did we ever tell Martha the truth about that one… that it wasn't Marjorie after all?" Rebecca flapped her right hand forwards with a hearty laugh, ignoring her husband's contempt.

"Poor Marjorie…" Michaela shook her head, and idly continued working her way through the dinner before her.

The room fell into a natural silence, as everyone finished their main course, and Ellen began clearing the plates away.

"Real ice-cream? Like in the store?" Brian's eyes widened as the large bowl of strawberry ice-cream was placed in front of him.

"You've had it before, haven't you?" Penny spoke crisply, as she watched her cousin's mouth water.

"Of… of course I have…" Brian replied haughtily, anything to save himself from appearing deprived.

No-one noticed Ellen disappear momentarily into the hallway, until she returned and reluctantly stood by Mr. Dickenson's side.

"I do apologize… Dr. Burke is here… he wishes to speak with Miss Michaela…" She kept her voice low and unobtrusive.

"Show him in, Ellen…" Edmund instructed immediately.

"No, I… it's all right… please excuse me…" Michaela removed the napkin from her lap, and moved as hastily as she could from the dining room, arriving slightly breathlessly into the foyer.

"William?" She smiled lightly at the unexpected visit.

"Michaela, I sincerely apologize for interrupting at such a late hour…" He turned and crossed the room.

"Don't apologize… we were just finishing…" she guessed at the meaning behind his visit at once, and preempted him, "Although if you're here simply to check on me… I assure you… I'm fine… I've been resting each afternoon… and eating properly…" she trailed off, noticing the sadness in his eyes. "William?"

"Oh… I… I'm glad. Michaela, might… might we talk somewhere more private?"

She ushered him into the sitting room, as they both settled themselves in armchairs facing each other.

"Is something wrong? I… have I… are you in trouble… because of me?" Michaela swallowed, and cleared her throat, her upper chest burning from her undigested food.

"No… no… I… spoke with your sister yesterday… since then… I've found myself… Michaela, I wanted to apologize sincerely, for the heartless, arrogant things I said over the past few days." He spoke softly, his large blue eyes studying her calm expression.

"There's no need, I deserved everything. My behavior was… appalling. It is I who am indebted to you for your assistance." Michaela was distracted by the physician's less-than-subtle awkwardness.

"No, please… some of my earlier remarks… were uninformed. It was before I knew all the facts. Before I understood the situation properly…" he dismissed quickly.

"William, honestly… this is unnecessary. You are right. I don't have a choice any longer. As much as it disheartens me to believe it… if I really have no other option than to have this child… then… then perhaps that is beyond me…" she spoke with defeated resignation.

"Michaela, I don't understand… yesterday… you… your sister… was all but pleading with me for a way to cease this pregnancy… and… now you almost seem… accepting of it." He wasn't prepared for such a surrendering attitude.

"I'm sorry… I had absolutely no right to demand something like that of you… to jeopardize my own license is one thing… but to even ask… to expect you to take such a risk… is unforgivable." Michaela lowered her voice, feeling as though every decision she'd made was merely distressing those around her.

"No… you were very much justified. I… until yesterday, I didn't understand the true nature of the situation. That is why I came to see you this evening. I… think I can help," He met her eyes as she looked up at him suddenly.

"But you already have, William. And you spoke of… the convent… in the city… is that no longer feasible?" Michaela frowned, feeling uneasiness set in.

"Oh… no, it is, it is… I… I thought, however, I might be able to suggest help… in a more… practical manner. Certainly, a more timely one…" He noticed the flash of confusion, followed by a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"William?" Michaela saw the seriousness in his eyes. She heard the dryness in his voice. She recognized his demeanor; It was the same one she used when she had to deliver bad news to a patient.

She studied his expression for several moments longer, his mouth twitching as she slowly began to understand the true motive behind his calling. "I… are you saying…"

"I might be able to help you… if that is still what you want…" William spoke tentatively, after all, exceptional circumstances or not, what he was proposing, was still illegal and gravely immoral.

She felt her stomach lurch, her dinner moving slightly into a mild wave of nausea. Her fingers tingled, and the backs of her hands felt icy cold.

"Help me? You mean…" She saw his subtle glance downwards.

"I only wish you'd told me sooner… it would have been a lot…" he paused finding the best word, "… simpler…"

"I tried…" Michaela defended, with mild exasperation. "I wrote to Horatio Storer himself, I visited him… I even asked you…" Michaela shook her head wearily.

"Yes… but… well… you weren't exactly… clear." He cleared his throat, knowing exactly which detail Michaela had omitted from her argument.

"I believe I was; you think I don't find this as reprehensible as the rest of you? You think I didn't question myself… agonize for weeks... you think I didn't ask myself, 'If I'd presented as a patient to myself… I'd not have used every single defense I've been presented with here,' I did, William… I just… if there was a better solution… don't you think I'd prefer it?" Michaela's voice had become rich with emotion.

"It's all right, don't upset yourself," William challenged, raising his right hand forwards slightly to calm her.

"I'm sorry…" Michaela drew a much needed breath, as she glanced away towards the burning fire.

"As I said… I am willing to help you… I need to know that it is still what you want…" William continued sternly.

She felt herself choke up slightly, as she watched the large flames flicker. Her lips pursed tightly, she nodded deliberately.

"You need to say it, Michaela…" William kept his voice professional. He was more concerned about the dissociated way in which she was handling the suggestion.

She pulled her eyes away, biting her lower lip as she glanced downwards. "I want this to be over… I need my life back…"

He leaned forwards in the chair. "We must be absolutely certain… this is not something I take lightly… and not entirely something I feel comfortable with. If it was anyone else, there would be no discussion." He knew he was violating his oath as a doctor, not to mention a precious moral code; a combination of religious belief and fine upbringing.

She took in his carefully placed words, and understood what had not been voiced.

"I… I never thought I could believe that the termination of a pregnancy could be warranted… until I had to choose. Between my three other children… Am I being selfish?" She looked away once again.

"I do not believe so…" He muttered, able to comprehend the sheer inconvenience, in addition to emotional torment that such a pregnancy would present. "I believe this is justified… if not 'right'… then… acceptable…"

"You were adamant yesterday… what has changed?" Michaela frowned, seeing his hands clutched nervously against the arms of the velvet chair.

"I wasn't… in possession of all the facts…" His eyebrows lowered, as he moved his hands to his knees. "Michaela… why didn't you tell us the truth… that is what made the difference…" He shook his head, conveying his confusion.

"I…" She tightened her jaw momentarily, and refused to meet his eyes. From the expression on her face, William knew the memory caused her almost physical pain. "I don't wish to discuss it…" Her face deadened, now void of any emotion.

"Michaela… do you honestly think appearing… like this… in such a state… was not more distressing for everyone… your sister… myself. I'm certain that someone as conservative as Horatio Storer would quite possibly have assisted you in the first place, had you simply explained…"

"I couldn't… I just… What makes you think for one moment that you've any ability to understand my motives…" She glanced around the room, moving her eyes anywhere that didn't involve looking directly at him.

"Perhaps you're right, but…" He stopped seeing her eyes dropped closed in distress.

"I'd sooner people believe I was a _whore_… than… know…" She stood quickly, and moved across the room beside the cozy fire, her right hand resting against the mantelpiece. "I can't explain it… so I can't expect anyone to understand how it feels… I _hate_ myself… from the moment I wake up, usually drenched in sweat… during the entire day… every minute when I remember… and just thinking about it… is as if it's happening all over again…"

"Michaela, you don't have to tell me…"

"I don't care! I really don't… I can't. People think I'm delicate, or weak. Doctors, even my own sisters… I… I'm sure they think I'm utterly insane… They think I don't know what I'm doing… But I do. I know every moment of every day… I knew on Friday when I took the Laudanum… I merely hoped it would induce a miscarriage… but part of me… wanted to go with it… Of course I can tell myself everything you will… 'Don't be foolish, you've got your life ahead of you…', 'How can you consider such wickedness when you've three beautiful children who need you…'… Don't you think I know all of that?" She dropped her voice to a hush. "But no matter what, there's this tiny part of me… that doesn't care about any of that. It's as if I can't see life the same as it was before… You'll say it's melancholia… and maybe that's true… I just keep waiting for it to end… but every day the reminder just strengthens… and I don't understand what I did to deserve this… _Why me_?" Her shoulders dropped, as her lower lip trembled. She felt the warmth of the fire against her hands as the sight of the flame before her vision became clouded by her own tears.

William arrived silently behind her. Michaela remained unaware of his close proximity until she felt the tips of his fingers touch her left shoulder, ever so lightly.

"I'm sorry…" he muttered, offering nothing more than solace in his uninflected words.

She blinked, a long, thoughtful blink. She concentrated on the almost unperceivable sensation of his touch. _He has initiated that._ Her mind voiced calmly. _He knows, and he's not disgusted, Michaela. Why are you harder on yourself, than are those around you… Because I feel so… tainted. I never thought I'd feel this way… I never thought I'd let this shame control me… No. _She ordered strongly to herself. _I will make this stop. I will take my life back._

She knew that such a touch meant something significant, regardless of her troublesome situation. For a man to initiate such an act… alone… she felt history flooding back to her.

_I don't understand… what's happening…_

Michaela turned slightly, lowering her head as his hand fell quickly from her shoulder.

"Forgive me… that was improper… I am sorry…" William regretted the intimacy of the gesture the moment she moved.

"No. Don't apologize… please," she voiced breathily.

"It pains me to see you so distressed, Michaela. That is why… if it is what you want, I will help you…" His tone was equally light and awkward.

"… How…?" She quickly reiterated the question, seeing his misunderstanding, "I… I mean…" she cleared her throat, "… How is it done?" She watched his face stiffen quickly into a professional detachment.

"Well… until yesterday, I always believed it to be a far more invasive procedure than it might otherwise appear…" He looked away, to shed the personal nature of the situation. When he turned back to her, it was one physician talking to another. "There is a new technique, now considered less risky… a saline solution is injected directly into the uterine cavity, causing poisoning and premature death… a day later… the cervix is dilated with ergot, and labor is induced. The procedure is completed within several days. Following that, bed rest is advised for seven to ten days, and the patient monitored for any hemorrhaging… as would be the case following a natural delivery." William allowed her time to reflect on the provided information. He noticed the equally detached way in which she considered the procedure.

"The patient is still required to deliver the child? Why is this technique preferable?" Her voice was richer and more confident; after all, this was clinical; safe.

"Yes, from what I can gather… previous curettage procedures carried a great risk of uterine perforation, extensive blood loss, not to mention infection. It is considered safer to allow the body to 'more naturally' expel the deceased fetus," he clasped his hands behind his back as she took in the information unemotionally.

"I'd not been aware of this procedure…" Michaela sighed, dismayed. She thought back to the many nights she'd spent pouring over textbooks and journals, researching the very same field. Had such an option been presented, she could have attempted it herself. It would certainly have saved a lot of bother.

"No… it is new… and… well, this is hardly a publicized area of obstetrics. The termination of a pregnancy is only deemed appropriate from a medical point of view, when maternal health is threatened. And even then… it is… difficult to prove." He concluded and searched her face for any glimmer of hesitance. There was none.

"Where…?" She folded her arms tightly across her chest.

"My clinic…" He paused for reflection, "Michaela… are you sure this is what you want?" He was concerned by the coldness in her voice and expression.

"I am…" she replied without a beat.

"As long as you are. Unfortunately I have appointments all morning until twelve. But if you arrive then… it should only take half an hour or so… and I'll clear Wednesday's schedule. Michaela… if there are complications…" He saw her face animate at once.

"I trust you. Don't think about that," she dismissed the suggestion briskly.

"If, however… there are… the penalties are severe Michaela. If you require hospitalization, then any competent physician will know exactly what has been done. It could make matters far graver…" His voice lowered to match the content of his words.

"William, I'll take that chance… but I don't expect _you_ to. I can simply say I performed the procedure myself… I won't involve you," she reassured without delay.

"Michaela… you'd be arrested. You could end up in jail… or detained again… and I'm not sure which would be worse…" He tried to rationalize with her, however, sensed that her mind was already made up.

"Don't make me think about that… please… It won't happen, William. I trust you with my life. If something does go wrong, then… perhaps it was meant to be…" Michaela kept her gaze fixed across the room, her eyes drifting over the piano, hearing the music fill her consciousness once again.

"How can you be so flippant with your very _life_, Michaela? How does the prospect not terrify you?" his tone was more forceful, and he moved slightly closer towards her, in order to obtain her attention.

Michaela pulled herself out of the daze, and answered his question with all seriousness. "William… I… In my experience, it takes more effort to stay alive. Dying is the easy way out… and death doesn't terrify me. Nothing does anymore," She recognized the fear that filled his eyes, it was a fear of incomprehension.

"I'm sorry if I appeared harsh… I'm scared for you… I… wouldn't want anything to happen to you… you have come to mean something to me…" his voice cracked as he spoke.

Michaela looked away, feeling her chest tighten, and her mind reel. They were back where they'd been a year ago. "William… I'm sorry… I… I can't deal with anything beyond the next few days at the moment. I don't know what I want in life anymore - I want to be the person I was before… and I don't know if I ever will be. I just need the things that _were_ important to me, to _stay_ important; my career; my children; my friends," she shrugged, as she reflected on all in her life that had changed.

"I'm sorry… it was selfish of me to," he began, but she spoke over him immediately.

"You were being honest and there is nothing selfish about that. I do care for you… and I'll never be able to thank you enough for being there for me… for helping me… I just need some time… to put things right…" She didn't know what she meant, not even what she wanted. She'd turned down his proposal once before, a decision that had, on occasion, filled her with regret. There were so many things in life that would have been different, had she married him and remained in Boston with the children. With the confusion of the situation she was now facing, Michaela found it nigh on impossible to deny that perhaps, that would have been the preferable outcome. Maybe she had sacrificed idealism for safety… maybe she was now being granted a second chance.

"Of course…" He muttered, his face hollow and sorrowful.

"I'll… see you tomorrow… at midday…" she hung her head, as he nodded meekly.

"If you change your mind," he recovered from the personal rejection, and donned a professional tone.

"I won't… Goodnight," Michaela clutched the sides of her skirt, as she silently departed from the room.

William watched her leave, waiting several moments before doing likewise. He knew he had a long night of reading ahead of him. An even longer night of thinking.


	76. Chapter 76

**Chapter 76**

Michaela arrived at the top of the stairs, as Rebecca was pacing tiredly from Penelope's room. "Is everything all right, Michaela?" she enquired with a warm, yet distracted smile, feeling slightly fed up with the two squabbling children.

"Oh… yes… yes, fine…" Michaela dismissed as the pair made their way down the corridor towards Brian's room.

"Good. William's certainly been attentive." Rebecca glanced over at her younger sister, as Michaela looked sharply at her.

"Actually… Rebecca, I needed to ask you… tomorrow… I have an appointment… with William at twelve. Might you come with me?" She arrived by the door to her bedroom, her sister worrying immediately.

"Is something wrong? He wasn't going to be seeing you until Wednesday…" Rebecca stopped by Michaela's side.

"Nothing is… wrong," She looked away awkwardly, afraid of her sister's reaction to the proposed action. "Rebecca… William came to see me this evening… because he changed his mind. He says there is a way he can… help…" Michaela eyed her sister suspiciously, not sure where Rebecca stood morally.

"Help you? You mean…" she searched awkwardly for the most appropriate word. Michaela noticed her hesitance immediately.

"He can induce labor…" she spoke candidly, however, reminded herself of her earlier discussions with the physician.

"And that is what you want?" Rebecca queried, despite being certain of the answer.

"I don't see any other way…" She brought her right hand to the doorknob, and kept her gaze lowered. "You don't approve, do you? You believe this is wrong…" Michaela's voice was monotone and cold.

"That's not true, Michaela. Until I arrived at the hospital on Friday evening, I held exactly the same conventional views as I suppose you did until you found out. I believe you are doing what you feel is best. Therefore, whatever you deicide… is 'right' in my mind." Rebecca brushed her sister's arm lightly.

"You'll come with me, tomorrow?" Michaela's voice was unusually low and wavering.

"Of course… I'll support you no matter what, Michaela… the children have school, and I'm sure Ellen wouldn't mind watching Brian…" She paused, and drew a breath. "Michaela… is it dangerous?" Rebecca whispered, her sister glancing back up at her slowly.

"Yes," she muttered with all honesty.

"Then I'm glad William cares for you as he does…" Rebecca smiled more confidently, Michaela catching on to the end of her reply.

"Rebecca… last year when we were here… Mother said he was a good man… and I know that. Tonight, he…" she shrugged the sentence away and continued, "…am I foolish to expect him to forgive such… dishonor…?" Michaela frowned, waiting for her sister to take in her meaning.

"That's not really something I can say, Michaela. If he won't… then he's not worth your time. However… from the care he's shown you…" Rebecca saw the confusion sweep across her sister's face.

"He… touched me… tonight. Maybe I perceived it incorrectly. I've forgotten how different proprieties are here," Michaela sighed, trying to dismiss the complication.

"I doubt that you overreacted… although I am surprised he would behave in such a forward manner," Rebecca frowned defensively.

"So was I… It was probably my fault… things… aren't talked about as openly here… I probably confused him." Michaela sighed, feeling both physically and emotionally drained from the long day.

"Michaela, please stop blaming yourself," Rebecca shook her head with a tender smile. "Have an early night… I've got two fighting children to separate…" Rebecca rolled her eyes.

"Brian? What's he done? Becca… I'm sorry," She looked towards the child's bedroom worriedly.

"Don't be silly, they're children… I think Penny was insisting they played house… Brian was fed up, and hid Josephine…" Rebecca recounted the events with motherly humor.

"Josephine?" Michaela frowned, leaning back up against the closed door.

"One of Penelope's dolls… I assure you, it's completely under control. They're in their rooms reading… and then maybe they'll learn to appreciate having each other to spend time with…" She crossed the hallway as Michaela opened her bedroom door.

"Thank-you." Michaela whispered, stepping into the room.

"You never have to thank me. Sleep well…" Rebecca smiled, as Michaela disappeared through the doorway.

**X.O.X**

Michaela had spent several hours tossing and turning. She couldn't sleep on her stomach, and her back ached. Finally, with a pillow wedged under her knees, and tucked up into a small ball on her side, she had drifted to sleep.

It wasn't very late, only about eleven, when she stirred slightly at the sound of a door opening. She dismissed it, and was about to force her eyes closed again when it returned, only this time, closer. A stream of dull light from the corridor fell across the bed, and she squinted her eyes open. It was her door.

She sat up awkwardly, and looked towards the door. "What..?" she whispered, her eyes still adjusting to the light.

"Ma? Ya awake, Ma?" Brian leaned around the ajar door, his voice small and scared.

"Hmm, I am now…" She rubbed her forehead, and beckoned him into the room. "What are you still doing awake… _ssh_… close the door, you'll disturb everyone…" Michaela watched as Brian obeyed her instructions, and paced across to the side of the bed.

"Had a bad dream… ain't had one for ages… and… then when I woke up, I didn't know where I was… or where you were…" The young boy fidgeted with the sleeves of his oversized pajamas.

Michaela shook her head, "oh, Brian…" She looked him up and down, noticing the tears in his eyes. Without uttering a sound, she pushed back the embroidered quilt, and moved over.

"Thought you'd say I was too old… that I had to go back to bed?" he challenged, carefully slipping between the sheets.

"It's all right, this once… we are in a strange place…" Michaela reached across to hand the boy a spare pillow, and they both settled back down snugly.

"Ma?" He waited until the room was silent.

"Hmm?" Michaela turned on her right side, to face the child, her hands tucked under her face.

"Are you really going away? And sendin' me home on my own?" He scrunched up his pillow under his head, just able to see her face through the dim moonlight.

"No, sweetheart…" she brought her hand forwards to tenderly stroke his disheveled hair.

"Coz yesterday you said,"

"I know… but that won't be happening any longer… Brian… tomorrow… I'm going to see Dr. Burke… and he's going to... do an operation… and then… in a week… we can go home…" Michaela tucked her hand back under her head.

"What kinda operation, Ma?" Brian's voice grew slightly louder, in worry.

"You don't need to worry about that… but, everything will be better… and we can go home. Back to your brother and sister," Michaela smiled, as Brian closed the gap between them, his head fitting comfortably under her chin. His eyes dropped closed, as his breath regulated against the sound of his mother's breathing.

"Nothin's gonna happen to you, is it, Ma?" he whispered after a long silence.

Michaela was almost to sleep when she heard the boy's soft mutter. Reaching her left arm around to his upper back, she patted him tenderly.

"Did you have another dream about something happening, Brian? Is that why you're asking?" Michaela tried to dismiss the nervousness building in her chest; she knew the planned procedure was risky.

"Uh-huh… That when you were havin' the baby… it died… then you died… like Miss Abigail…" Brian kept his hands clutched tightly to his chest, the space between them narrowing as he edged his way closer.

"Were you there for that, sweetheart?" Michaela frowned, hearing the undisguised tremor in the child's voice.

"Yeah… lots a people were… Ma was there with Colleen… can't remember much… I was five I think… I just remember that me and Matthew and Sully were out in the barn… with Mr. Bray… and that it took a real long time… and everyone was gettin' worried… and then Ma came out… and they tried to get her to a doctor… but Matthew said it was too late, and she and the baby both died… I dunno… my head musta got confused… I keep worryin' that somethin' bad's gonna happen to you… like when you're asleep… like it did at the hotel… and then I check that you're all right… and you are… but then the next time I feel like if I don't check… then it'll be too late…" Brian allowed his eyes to drop closed again, smelling the freshly laundered scent of her nightgown only inches from his nose.

"Brian… you remember when Dorothy's son came into the homestead that night," Michaela began.

"And ya shot him…"

"Yes… and… Colleen became scared… Do you remember what I told her?" Michaela ran her hand over the boy's head, and unconsciously noticed the small circular indentation from the trephine scalpel.

"That… that we can't always be afraid… coz then we'll never do stuff… was the same thing you told me when we went on the picnic… and I tried to do what you said, didn't I?" He opened his eyes, and glanced up at her.

"I know you tried, Brian… but…" Michaela trailed off, as her breath caught in her throat. A tight pressure radiated across her stomach, for only a brief moment. Something felt… different. She paused, and moved away ever so slightly from Brian, hoping the sensation would dissipate.

"And… it was only coz of what happened at the hotel, Ma… coz I really thought everything was gonna be all right… and then it… Ma?" Brian felt his mother pull away from his side, and roll quickly over onto her back.

_Go away… go away… _Michaela felt every inch of her consciousness pulled unrelentingly down to her lower abdomen. Until now, the fluttering movement that had disturbed her so greatly Friday had not returned; she'd allowed herself to ignore the memory of it. Until this very moment. She'd forgotten how compelling it was. Maybe moving slightly would make it stop.

"Brian… uh… so then… what… did you do?" she stammered, feeling her hands, now by her side, clench into fists and push down on the mattress either side of her hips. _Make it stop… make it go away…_

The young boy adjusted his head on the pillow and quickly remembered where he was up to. "Well, that's when you said to not tell Grandma… and then you went to sleep… and wouldn't wake up… and so I ran downstairs… to get help, and… Ma?" Despite the darkened room, Brian could still see her face; her eyes were closed deliberately, and he could just see her lips silently moving.

She opened her eyes, and turned back onto her right side. Brian perceived the look on her face as discomfort.

"Ma?" He raised his head, and propped it up in his left hand.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart… go on…" Michaela instructed, although she'd not been concentrating on his words in the least.

_Why now… why did it have to come back right now… I don't want to think about it… to know it's there… I know it's there… _Michaela felt the gentle bubbling migrate slightly, from the left of her lower abdomen across to the center.

It was a demanding sensation, as much as she tried to ignore it, that only seemed to strengthen the child's movements.

"Brian… do you think you might be able to fall asleep now?" Michaela focused her attention forcefully on the child's confused face.

"I… I can try, Ma…" he whispered, feeling the coolness in her body language and the disregard in her voice.

She rubbed his arm a final time, however, Brian perceived immediately, there was not the same warmth in her touch there had been before. He felt her move away.

"Ma… ya mad at me?" His voice was small.

"No, Brian… please… go to sleep…" Michaela replied dryly.

"Yes, Ma…" He closed his eyes, not tired, but not wanting to make her angry with him either.

Michaela watched the small boy's eyes drop closed, and rolled once again onto her back. The incessant rumbling continued, stronger than it had been the last time she'd experienced it. At least her lower back pain had disappeared, although, Michaela suspected she would have preferred the discomfort.

_I can't sleep… I can't think… Stop it, please… just… _She brought her right hand automatically to her stomach, lightly touching the spot where she'd last felt the baby's presence. Her nightgown was thin, and Michaela hadn't until that moment realized just how firm her lower abdomen had become. She'd seen how much weight she'd gained, and particularly the previous morning when changing, Michaela had noticed her swollen stomach, as it extended out beyond her chest for the first time.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered, so softly that no sound could be heard.

Michaela kept her right hand against her abdomen for several minutes, adjusting to the feeling of her altered shape. She reflected in that short span of time, the nights she'd spent over the last few weeks in this same position. She thought forwards to tomorrow, allowing the relief to wash over her. Within two days it would all be over.

She couldn't deny the apprehension, but, as a doctor, she knew that was to be expected. She reassured herself quickly. _William graduated top of his class… and that was Harvard, Michaela. If anyone can do this safely… you don't need to worry about that._

She brushed her fingertips over her firm stomach once again. _Remember what you promised yourself, Michaela… that death would be preferable._

The pestering flutter moved once again, this time back over to the left side. As she tried to get used to the sensation, her mind began a confused bantering back and forth. _Are you listening to yourself? Death? You'd really rather be dead? Yes, I would. Don't be ridiculous. Michaela Quinn, you'd throw away everything you have achieved, all your life accomplishments, because of the inconvenience of a pregnancy?_

She pulled her hands sharply away from her stomach, starting to realize she was not detesting the sensation as much as she had initially; as much as she should be. The conversation in her head continued. _This is not just 'a pregnancy'. If it were that simple, there would be no dilemma. This is not about the pregnancy. This is about the people I love… my family, my children… this is about not allowing their reputations to be ruined because of… Because of what, Michaela? There you go, about to blame yourself again. Stop it!_

She looked over, suddenly remembering the child next to her. She watched him for several moments. He was sleeping peacefully, his face angelic and relaxed. She watched his chest rise and fall steadily, his lips pursed adorably, only slightly parted. Michaela noticed the delicate strands of blond hair which trailed the edges of his forehead.

_How can you leave him, Michaela? It was terrifying enough for him to lose you once, how can you risk forcing him to lose you all over again? Without even preparing him._

She slipped her right arm out from under the quilt to stroke his arm softly.

_How can I expose him to such a scandal? Remember how the other children taunted him all those months ago… and this would be drastically worse…_

_Nothing could be worse than forcing that child to lose another mother, Michaela. You know that._

_He will not be losing me. Nothing is going to happen to me. Nothing. As William said, this is a relatively safe procedure… Once it is all over… we can return home…_

_And what, Michaela? You think Sully doesn't know why you left? You really think Colleen and Matthew haven't told him by now? You know he wouldn't have approved, Michaela. Life is sacred, regardless. The child should not be blamed. It is an innocent._

She curled back up on her stomach, feeling welcome discomfort at the pressure that the weight of her body exerted upon her abdomen. _Shut up! I don't want to hear this… I can't… _She screwed her eyes closed and pushed her face violently down into the pillow.

Michaela remained frozen in the uncomfortable position for several moments, as her mind continued to reel with aggressive arguments:

_You are just doing this to save what is left of your own reputation, Michaela…_

_That's not true… I'm doing it for the children… for Sully… I want us to have a future together… the future we'd planned… the future we deserve._

_Why should this baby be murdered, just for the sake of gossip. That is just selfish._

_No it's not. I'm not doing this for me… I'm not._

_Who are you kidding… yes, you are… Admit it, Michaela, you are terrified of this child._

_I'm not… that's not why I'm doing this._

_Yes, it is… admit it… You've as much told yourself, if this was a white baby… then all would be different._

_Of course it would be different…_

_So then you're just being prejudiced, Michaela?_

_No, I'm not…_

_Yes, you are… The only reason this child is going to die in less than twelve hours, is because it's Indian. Because it's a reminder._

_That's not true. It's a reminder, yes, but it's not like I'm about to forget what has happened… I'll never forget._

_But you think you will. You think killing this baby will help you to forget._

_Yes… all right! Fine… fine… at least I won't have to look at this child… and see… him… At least after tomorrow… I won't have to feel this child moving inside of me… feeling exactly as if he were violating me all over again… every moment of every day…_

_See, then… it's just selfish, Michaela._

She'd not felt the tears stream from her eyes, until she drew a desperate breath, and found herself choked by moisture. Quickly pulling her head away from the large pillow, Michaela wiped her cheeks furiously with her hands and tried to regulate her breathing, allowing the disturbing content of her thoughts to slowly fade away.

Rolling back onto her side, the crying had made her sleepy, and, managing to reposition herself so that she was comfortable, Michaela let her eyes drop closed. She could have fallen asleep in that instant, were it not for the continued movement inside of her. Reluctantly, she brought her hand to the side of her stomach, and gently began rubbing the stretched flesh through her nightgown.

She knew it would work, and, as predicted, after several minutes, Michaela felt the sensation slow, and eventually cease altogether.

_Finally…_

Allowing herself to drift off into much-needed sleep, Michaela pushed all thoughts of her baby from her mind, able to all but forget its existence once the quickening had stopped. As relieved as she was, however, she could never forget that feeling. The feeling of a new creation within her, struggling to grow, to develop… struggling more that it would ever realize… just to stay alive.

**X.O.X**

**Tuesday, 12****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Michaela looked down at the partially filled checkerboard in front of her.

"Ma… see ya shoulda moved _there,_ now I got another one…" Brian pointed to the black piece, as he skipped his red one over, and collected yet another of Michaela's pieces.

"You're right… that was silly, wasn't it… my turn again?" She surveyed the large board between them and noticed she was very definitely losing.

"Uh-huh… Ma…" Brian rolled his eyes, "Ya only got two pieces… is it really that hard to choose?" Brian grinned teasingly.

"You just mind your own pieces, mister…" Michaela raised an eyebrow, "Right… what if I…" She confidently skipped the disc over two of Brian's pieces. "There… I believe we're even again…" She smiled out of the corner of her mouth, as the boy reluctantly placed another black disc on top of the one she'd just moved, to king it.

"You wait… no one beats me unless I let 'em… not even Matthew…" Brian clasped his hands together, and leaned closer towards the edge of the board, studying his options.

"Someone's sounding rather sure of himself…" Michaela smirked, as Brian claimed another of her pieces. "Aww…" she dropped her head, pretending to be mortified.

"See… I'm winnin' again…" Brian sat up proudly in his chair, as Michaela glanced up at the clock above the mantelpiece. Still just over an hour before they needed to leave. She turned her attention back to the game and quickly made a move.

"Ya did it again, Ma… see ya made it too easy… I can just jump ya…" Brian instructed, and proceeded to claim yet another piece.

"How did that…?" Michaela dropped her jaw open, as Brian stacked up the new possession beside his elbow.

"Ya weren't lookin'… only one to go now…" Brian gestured to the board, and Michaela moved the only remaining piece.

"This is gonna be easy… see, I just have to build a little line here… and then you ain't got nowhere to go…" He moved another of his red pieces into a row.

"Seems… rather pointless…" Michaela sighed, and nudged the poor, solitary disc to another square.

"Not for me…" The young boy flashed a cheeky grin, as he edged towards her black piece.

Michaela reached her right hand across the board, about to slide the disc into the only 'safe' square, when she felt the muscles over her lower abdomen pull slightly. Drawing in a sharp breath, her arm freezing momentarily, she allowed the sensation to pass, and hastily moved the piece.

"Ya all right, Ma?" Brian frowned, and jumped nervously to his feet.

"Fine… it's your move…" She absent-mindedly began to massage the spot with her left hand, as Brian slowly took his seat.

"Ah… see, told ya, ya had no way to escape… got ya!" Brian chuckled in a child-like manner, as he triumphantly jumped over the last remaining checker disc.

"Very good, Brian…" Michaela smiled, as her breathing once again stabilized.

"Can… May we play again?" He eagerly began placing the pieces into alternate squares, not waiting for an answer.

"All right. One more game…" Michaela let her voice trail off thoughtfully, as she studied the glee that spread over the boy's face at the simple idea of a second checkers game. _One more game…? _She reflected on the statement. It had bothered her the first time around. As she observed the child's delicate features, his sparkling blue eyes, his stunning golden hair, his rosebud lips, Michaela felt a fresh wave of anxiety wash over her.

"One more game, until tonight, Brian…" she quickly added, managing to snap herself out of the troubling thoughts.

"Yeah? Aunt Rebecca says you gotta stay in bed, that I can't disturb ya…" Brian finished arranging the pieces on the board.

"I should be home just after lunch… so there will be plenty of time later this evening… You can show me some of these tricks, what do you say?" Michaela waited for the boy to begin the game, and quickly did likewise.

"All right, Ma…" He smiled and looked up at her, having no awareness of the significance of this time together. Of what it meant to Michaela.

**X.O.X**

_The physician washed his hands quickly, and turned around to face his patient. "You're feeling comfortable enough, there?" He glanced at her momentarily, as he walked across the room to the end of the examination table. He pulled a small table covered with a white cloth closer towards him._

"_Please, I'd prefer to just get this over with…" Michaela whispered. She allowed her eyes to drop closed, however found the darkness only frightening. She opened them again, and found her surroundings even more petrifying. She remained perfectly still on the padded examination table, her undergarments removed, her legs in stirrups, and a large white sheet draped over her abdomen and knees._

"_Are you sure I can't give you something? This might be quite uncomfortable," he offered, reaching for the bottle of chloroform._

"_No." she paused to justify her refusal, "I'm killing my own child… I don't deserve for this to be anything less than torturous." Michaela dropped her hands from her stomach, down by her sides._

"_If that is what you wish…" he muttered, not agreeing with her decision, but also respecting that it was her choice. He positioned himself at the foot of the high table, and reached for the large, metallic instrument. He hesitated for a moment, noticing Michaela's shallow breathing._

"_Try to relax… if you tense up… it will only make it worse…" he instructed, noticing her left knee begin to shake very subtly._

"_I know… I'm trying…" Michaela exhaled noisily, and squinted her eyes closed as she tried desperately to regulate her breathing. After several moments, she thought she'd managed it, when she felt the impossibly cold instrument touch her exposed flesh._

_Her jaw clenched so hard she thought her gritted teeth would shatter, and unconsciously let out a small whimper, as she felt the instrument invade her._

"_Just breathe… this is the easy part…" He spoke softly, trying to reassure her, although concentrating closely on his work._

_Michaela felt her chest tighten, and concentrated all her efforts in forcing the air in and out of her lungs, as she felt the large object being pushed further inside her. After a moment, the sensation stopped and she dared to open her eyes, at the exact same moment in which the speculum was clamped open._

"_Mmm…" she groaned, feeling her lower body tense uncontrollably._

"_Why don't you at least let me give you something… there's absolutely no point in withstanding the discomfort." He removed his hands, satisfied that she was amply dilated._

"_No… I don't want to make this comfortable…" Michaela whispered, her voice hollow._

"_Fine. But you really do need to try and calm down… just close you eyes, and concentrate on keeping your breathing regular…" He watched her take in his advice, and shut her eyes once again._

"_All right?" He reached for the long, curved metallic knife-like object beside him on the small table._

_She nodded quickly, and felt her arms press heavily down across her chest._

_Very carefully, he inserted the instrument, and passed it through the small opening of the speculum. "Now… don't move…" He kept his voice professional, as he brought his left hand forwards to her stomach, to feel for the exact position of the uterus._

_Without realizing it, she flinched at the contact of his fingertips against her bare flesh. "I… I'm sorry…" she stammered, her voice high-pitched and choked with tears._

"_Everything is fine... I just need to," He managed with significant force to push the curette through the cervical opening._

_Michaela felt the pained tears trickle down the outside of her face, as she kept her eyes tightly closed. She could taste blood in her mouth, and, although she had not made one sound in response to the pain, she had bitten once again through the edge of her lower lip._

"_There… all right… now, whatever you do, don't move…" His voice was slow and grave, void of the compassion and warmth it had contained minutes earlier._

_Michaela took in the seriousness of his manner, and braced herself for what she imagined to be diabolical discomfort. She couldn't feel anything. She drew another tentative breath, as her fingers found the edges of the padded table either side of her._

"_Almost…" the physician began, although was cut off by his patient's sharp protests._

"_Ah, ahh…" She could feel the sharp instrument pass through the narrow cervical opening. Michaela felt fresh tears collect and seep from the corners of her eyes, as she gripped the sides of the table, her fingernails breaking through the fine thread of the sheet in response to the blinding pain. "Ughh… Mmm…" the inarticulate moans and cries slipped uncontrollably from her lips, as her fingers pushed deeper and deeper into the padding underneath her._

"_Just… just breathe… it won't be much longer now…" he instructed, as he began the first scrape of the uterine wall._

"_Oh, God…" Michaela felt completely separated from her mind; as she trailed off into childlike moans, the sound pausing only when she ran out of breath, and had to pant quickly before breaking out into a new tormented wail._

"_Almost finished…" The physician adjusted his stance, carefully inserting the instrument several inches further._

_Michaela endured the indescribable scouring torture for several minutes, before she felt the blood against her thighs._

"_Is it…?" She tried to lift her head, although it felt heavy and so let it drop back against the pillow. At the same time she allowed her eyes to close, feeling relief that at least the movement of the knife inside her had ceased._

"_Damn it…" the physician murmured, as he turned and reached for a handful of gauze._

"_What…?" she murmured, although was surprised at how quiet her voice had sounded._

_She felt the warm flow of blood increase, as her fingers began to tingle slightly. She tried to open her eyes, but they suddenly seemed too heavy. It wasn't worth the effort._

"_It's all right. Everything is going to be all right… just stay with me… you're losing a lot of blood… stay with me…" the doctor's voice sounded a long way away, despite the fact that he was only several feet from her, at the end of the table._

_He roughly removed the instruments, and cursed again as this only seemed to increase the rate in which the blood was streaming from the woman's body._

_Michaela felt a strange dizziness wash over her, as she tried to make sense of what was happening. "Can't you… stop it…" she pleaded as strongly as she could manage. She felt herself try to work out what had happened, but her thinking was hazy and scattered._

"_Am I… going to die…" she wasn't sure if she'd actually whispered the phrase, or merely thought it; prayed it. Please… please don't let me die… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…_

_She felt the physician push the thick gauze packing firmly against her, although could tell from the internal warmth, and the sensation of fluid against her skin, that the bleeding had not abated._

"_No… keep your eyes open… it's all right… it will be all right…" the doctor's voice had grown into a strained holler._

_Michaela heard the clink of metal as the instruments were thrown hastily into the bowl beside him. Everything around her was fading… she could feel her heart racing, and her hands and feet grow cold and tingly._

_I'm scared… I don't want to die… please… someone… someone stop this…_

_Her mind reeled as her hearing failed her. "I'm sorry… I didn't know what else to do… Father, I'm sorry…" Michaela saw her Father appear before her closed eyes. It was at that moment, she knew her fate was grave._

_She could feel the blood pooling under her, and noticed that the physician had stopped exerting pressure in an attempt to reduce the flow._

_Why has he stopped? God, this is really happening… why did I do it… it's my fault… I'm being punished. Brian… what's going to happen to him… why… why did I do this…?_

_She was beyond help._

"_No… I'm sorry…" By that stage, Michaela couldn't move, she couldn't even open her eyes. Just as she noticed herself trapped inside her lifeless body, a rising sensation flooded over her. She was floating. She looked down, and her body was still lying motionless on the examination table. She was no longer in it…_

He threw his head back sharply; he was too late.

"Michaela…! Michaela… No… _No… No!_"


	77. Chapter 77

**Chapter 77**

"Mi… Michaela!" Sully felt his head hit the wall of the compartment, before his eyes jolted opened, and he could interpret his surroundings.

Matthew and Colleen looked up sharply from their seats opposite him, concerned by the desperation and growing volume of his voice.

"Sully… it's all right… it's all right…" Colleen rushed immediately to his side and reached forwards to steady his flailing arms.

"No… not all right… you don't understand…" He garbled incoherently, as Matthew arrived on his right side.

"It was only a dream, Sully…" Matthew gestured to their surroundings.

"It… weren't a dream… I mean… was more than that… we gotta find ya Ma… somethin' bad's gonna happen…" Small beads of perspiration lined his hairline, and he struggled for breath. He knew now that what he had experienced had only been a dream, however, could not deny the emotional intensity that had accompanied it. That intensity had been real.

"That's what we're tryin' to do, Sully… look… see…" Matthew moved his hand towards the window, as they neared the station. "…we're here…"

Sully squinted, and brushed his fingers through his short head of hair. "We… we are?" he cleared his throat, repeating his assertion with a fresh determination, "we're here…"

Colleen looked between the window and her brother. "We're here… but how exactly we gonna find them?"

"I… Sully?" Matthew dropped his shoulders, and turned to the older man for an answer.

"Well… gonna go to the hospital… take it from there… any luck she'll still be there… if not, at least they'll know where she is…" Sully quickly began gathering loose items around him, his panic evident to the children.

"Sully… calm down, all right? We're gonna get to her… panicking is just gonna make it worse…" Matthew smoothed out his trousers, and looked awkwardly around the small compartment, as the train slowed and eventually came to a complete stop.

**X.O.X**

Rebecca and Michaela entered through the large black door of the clinic, noticing the examination room door still closed; William had not yet finished with his last patient.

Michaela felt her eyelids drop closed heavily for a moment; she had managed barely two hours sleep the night before and that was probably not before four o'clock in the morning.

"We might as well have a seat…" Rebecca suggested, glancing at the row of chairs against the wall.

Michaela nodded and they sat down. Rebecca noticed both the tiredness and nervousness that marred her younger sister's face.

"Michaela… perhaps it is not my place… but… I… I wanted to ensure you're not doing this… just because you feel… pressured. Michaela, you know you may stay with us for as long as," Rebecca glanced over at her sister, as Michaela quickly responded.

"Rebecca, I don't feel pressured…" Michaela replied, her voice succinct and flat.

"I just wanted you to know that… if you had any doubts, then," Rebecca glanced downwards and was about to reach for her sister's hand when Michaela lifted her head and looked directly at her.

"Please!" she lowered her voice immediately. "I'm sorry… please, Rebecca… this is difficult enough… can we not _talk_ about it any longer… I… I've made up my mind… I just have to live with that," Michaela watched as her sister pulled her hand away and dropped it back to her lap.

"Of course… I am sorry…" Rebecca nodded apologetically. Michaela was right. This was a difficult enough decision.

Unlike the soft, bubbling sensation Michaela had felt the previous Friday; since last night, the child's movements had been stronger, and had not diminished. This only exacerbated the fact that what she was about to do, was procure the assistance of a fellow physician, and - with her full knowledge, and consent - murder the helpless life within her.

Michaela clutched her hands together, her gaze flickering between the crimson rug under her feet, and her pale brown skirt. More specifically, she was noticing the reality that she could no longer hide her condition, amidst the layers of such a skirt. She tore her eyes back upwards with a heavy, tired sigh.

"Michaela… did William say how long this might take… did you want me to stay?" Rebecca turned towards her, not having any idea of the details of the procedure her sister was about to undergo.

"Today…" she swallowed, and adjusted her voice into a slightly deeper one of clinical detachment. "… today will only be twenty minutes or so. William simply has to inject a solution… which will…" she couldn't actually say it, "… induce labor…" Michaela felt the anxiety spread from her chest down her arms, and to her hands at the very thought. _I still have to deliver this child…_

"You mean you still have to deliver… the child?" Rebecca leant forwards, concerned at the stunned look of dread which appeared on Michaela's face.

_How did she know I was thinking that?_

"Yes… but William says it's the safest option…" Michaela bit her lower lip, feeling her heart pound under her ribs.

"I see," Rebecca rested back in the chair, and both women waited in an uncomfortable, agonized silence.

Michaela, her hands interlocked tightly in her lap, idly began twitching her index fingers together, as she looked around the small waiting area, desperate to distract herself from her thoughts.

_Why am I so scared? This is what I want… what I've been praying for… begging for… _She finished surveying the room, and looked downwards sharply, feeling her stomach drop. _Stop it… just… settle… _She felt the child's quick, spontaneous movements amplified by both the silence around her and her nervousness. _Think about something else… don't think about it… don't imagine it… it's going to be over soon, anyway…_

"And… does that mean you'll have… does that mean it will be over tomorrow?" Rebecca stammered, trying not to visualize a 'baby'. Michaela looked up at the sound of her voice, glad of the conversation. Despite the subject matter, anything was preferable than having to sit there, alone with the realization that the human being she could strongly feel, was facing a death sentence, through no fault of its own. This went against everything she believed in.

"Well, we don't know exactly… but once… death has occurred… the body will induce labor, to naturally expel the tissue… William said it usually only takes a day… so I'll come back tomorrow once… it has started… and then it may take a few hours…" Michaela couldn't deny the terrified guilt that pushed down on her shoulders. What was she doing? What had this child ever done to warrant such cruelty?

_Stop it… stop it… it is the way it has to be. You know that… now just do what you know is right. No one said this would be easy… or even feel right… you've had to face tough decisions in the past, Michaela…_

She was reminded of the time, approximately six months ago, when she and Sully had found Matthew trapped in the mine, his leg caught under a large rock. Without hesitating, Michaela had pulled the instrument from her bag, and had reached for her son's leg.

_Michaela, you know you would have done it. If Sully hadn't of arrived back just in that moment… you would have amputated his leg… you would have done what you had to do to try and save your son's life. This is no different. It doesn't matter how horrible you feel inside… you have to do what is right for your children._

"Rebecca… am I really doing the right thing?" Michaela heard the words fall from her mouth, without even realizing she had uttered them. She clamped her lips closed quickly; never having meant such weakness to show.

With equal speed, and sincere tenderness, her old sister reached across and grasped Michaela's left hand. "Michaela, try not to worry. It's perfectly understandable you'd be feeling anxious… scared… but you just need to be strong… just a little while longer… and… you've said it yourself… this is what you want."

Michaela heard her sister's words and nodded simply in response. Despite her outward agreement, the turmoil began once again in her mind. _Who said this is what I want… it was never about 'want'. I didn't 'want' to end up in this condition in the first place… I didn't 'want' to be dragged from the homestead that afternoon… I didn't want him to… this has never been about what 'I' wanted… _Michaela felt claustrophobic with the thoughts running through her mind, and the child's gentle swirling several inches below her stomach.

About to glance back to her sister, desperate to strike up a conversation, Michaela saw the door across from them open.

"If there is no improvement, you will need to see me again in two weeks…" William led the elderly gentleman out into the waiting area.

"Thank-you, Dr. Burke…" he nodded with a warm smile, and left the clinic.

Michaela felt both the real and imagined butterflies multiply in her stomach, the moment Rebecca rose to her feet. Automatically she did likewise.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Dickenson…" The physician greeted the women cordially.

"Dr. Burke… I… can't thank you enough…" Rebecca extended her hand and he grasped it politely.

_Why? Why is she thanking him for killing my baby? What's going on? 'My' baby? Since when have I ever thought that… That was strange… this doesn't feel right…_

"There really is no need… Michaela, do come through…" William gestured back towards the ajar door.

_Keep walking Michaela. Just do what you're told, and keep walking. One foot in front of the other… and it will all be over…_

As she passed by William and through the doorway, Michaela turned, and locked eyes with her sister for only a moment. In her sister's brief glance, Michaela saw only love and acceptance.

"I will be right here, Michaela," Rebecca reassured, as William nodded and closed the door behind him.

**X.O.X**

"I'm sorry, sir… she was discharged Saturday morning…" the nurse muttered, glancing down at the hospital records in front of her.

"Well, to where? What happened… is she all right?" Sully gripped his right hand around his left arm, alternating his stance in frustration.

"I'm sorry, it is against hospital procedure to release personal information regarding patients…" she continued, beginning to feel slightly intimidated by the impatience in the people standing around the desk before her.

"That's ridiculous! You don't understand…" Sully raised his voice angrily, as Matthew quickly stepped forward to intercede.

"Please… she's our mother… we've been traveling since Friday morning… we just need to find her… can't you help us?" Matthew softened his tone, and gestured inclusively towards Colleen as he pleaded with the young nurse.

"I truly am sorry, I can't give out patient information… not without some way of knowing who you are…?" Eva looked between each of the children, as she raised an eyebrow. She honestly did believe them, convinced by the concern in their faces, however, knew she needed more evidence than instinct alone.

"Brian… what about Brian? Our little brother… was he with her… is he all right?" Colleen approached the desk quickly, her eyes widening.

There was an awkward silence, before the nurse eventually smiled warmly and spoke.

"He's fine… look, you understand I can't tell you much, however, I assure you, both Dr. Quinn, and her son are fine…" she paused, noticing the family resemblance to Colleen for a moment, "… I suppose you might try contacting the physician who discharged her… Dr. Burke…" Eva glanced down at the details of discharge for a moment, looking up at the sound of the young man's stunned response.

"William?" Matthew looked slightly horrified, and turned to Sully who was on his right.

"I should have known…" Sully shook his head angrily. He knew he had to get to Michaela. Soon.

"Where might we find him?" Colleen broke through the men's emotional preoccupation.

"He's not at the hospital, today… he's scheduled to be at his private clinic…" She reached for a small black leather book on the corner of the desk, to get the address.

"It's all right, I know… come on!" Colleen dismissed the nurse with a grateful smile, and tugged on her brother's arm.

The children turned, as Sully moved into a fast jog, and headed back towards the stairs.

"Sully…" Matthew rolled his eyes, but quickly gave in and ran after him.

Colleen sighed noisily, and, reaching a hand to her head to secure her bonnet, followed behind them.

**X.O.X**

"Please…" William gestured warmly to their surroundings, and reached to help Michaela discard the large olive cape she was wearing.

"Thank-you," she voiced crisply, glancing around the well-stocked treatment room, unable to ignore the prestigious array of medical equipment, some of which she'd never seen before.

"If you… want to make yourself comfortable…" William pursed his lips hesitantly, and brought her over to the padded examination table.

"Do you need me to… I mean… how is the injection administered?" Michaela felt the inside of her mouth go dry, realizing quickly it was not just due to apprehension at the prospect of another internal examination.

"Oh…" He raised his hands quickly in reassurance. "… through the abdomen…" he nodded with a brief smile. "Just… here…" He extended his arm, and carefully helped her up onto the high table.

Michaela paused, feeling her forward thinking ability disintegrate with nervousness. "Sorry… I…" she quickly brought her hands around to unfasten the back of her pale brown skirt.

William crossed the room and busied himself in preparing for the procedure.

"It's fine, Michaela… I'd expect you to feel… uneasy…" He chose the word carefully, keeping his voice soft and calming.

"I… don't…" she replied bluntly, however, knew that that was an utter untruth. She was terrified.

The room remained silent for several minutes, Michaela carefully unbuttoning her brown velvet jacket and blouse, William drawing up the solution and preparing a few other items, including an alcohol spray, a bottle of chloroform, and a small white cloth, placing them all onto a metal trolley.

Michaela carefully lowered herself onto her back, delicately pushed the waistband of her skirt down, and folded the top of her blouse back, so as to allow him ample access to her lower abdomen.

"All ready?" William waited for verbal acknowledgement, before turning and arranging the small trolley against the right side of the table.

Michaela unconsciously let out a small gasp the moment his cold hands touched her bare skin. "I just need to determine fetal position… the solution needs to be injected directly into the surrounding fluid, so that it can be inhaled and…" He trailed off, quickly distracting himself.

"And poison the baby…" Michaela finished for him, her tone solemn and drawn-out.

"…exactly…" he muttered succinctly, and continued applying an exploratory pressure to her lower abdomen.

"Sorry…? Did that hurt?" He frowned, hearing her sharp intake of breath, and slightly surprised gasp.

"N-no… it wasn't you…" Michaela swallowed, having felt the stronger moving sensation against the right side of her stomach.

"I didn't feel… ah…" William lowered his hands several inches, just able to sense the small movement under his fingertips. "When did that start?" He looked back up at her.

"A few days ago…" she looked away quickly, "… Friday…"

"I see…" William cleared his throat, immediately realizing that such warmth and tenderness was not appropriate given the lethal objective of his patient's visit.

"Can… we…?" Michaela wasn't sure which way she meant that sentence. Suddenly this all seemed very immediate; very final.

"Of course…" he removed his hand, and turned back towards the small trolley.

Michaela watched as he sprinkled the white cloth very lightly with chloroform and turned back towards her.

"Here… there shouldn't be much discomfort, however I'd prefer if you were more relaxed… the last thing we want are any complications…" William carefully placed the cloth over her mouth and nose, Michaela inhaling several times, letting her eyes drop closed.

She felt his fingers return to her flesh after several moments, and, as the soothing anesthesia began to calm her, Michaela could feel only the child's faint fluttering deep within her.

"I… don't…" she opened her eyes quickly, as she heard the metal syringe clink against the tray as William reached for it.

"Ssh… just breathe, Michaela…" He held the syringe in his right hand, and brought his left up to stroke her forehead comfortingly.

"But, I… can't…" Michaela's voice became slightly slurred, as she tried to reach her left hand for the cloth covering her mouth and nose.

William frowned, seeing the fear in her eyes.

Carefully he turned, and placed the syringe back in the tray. He reached for the bottle of chloroform.

"Michaela, this is what you want, remember… you're doing the right thing. It's all right…" He trickled the contents of the glass bottle hastily against the cloth, still draped over her mouth and nose.

Michaela felt the child's movements begin to dissipate slightly, having become so used to them the past twelve hours, she was alarmed by the reality that they would soon be gone forever. Her mind began screaming at her. _No! Don't do this… This is wrong, Michaela… stop… Stop!_

She felt control slipping away, as she struggled to keep her eyes open. With all the failing energy she could muster, Michaela brought her left hand up towards her face and tried to pull the cloth from her mouth to speak.

"It's all right… it will be over soon…" William finished adding more chloroform to the white cloth, and placed the bottle back next to him. As he turned around again, he saw her arm move. Firmly, he reached for her wrist, and kept his tone reassuring, "Breathe, Michaela… just… close your eyes, and stay calm…" He pushed her arm back effortlessly to her side. "You are doing the right thing…"

By this stage, and due to her increased rate of breathing, Michaela felt herself losing consciousness quickly, she could no longer open her eyes, nor move, and barely managed to whisper a muffled plea; "No…" her voice was weak, shaky, and too soft to be heard.

As she felt involuntary blackness sweep over her, Michaela knew she'd failed. She had committed the worst possible sin, and could only wish with all her soul, that somehow, something would stop this_._

_Don't bother, Michaela… you've had that same wish before…_

William removed his left hand from her hairline, once he noticed her eyes drop closed and her slightly hysterical utterances cease.

He checked her pulse, and repositioned the cloth higher over her nose, before turning his attention back to the white enamel tray by his side.

Taking the large needle and syringe in his right hand, William narrowed his eyes and professionally tapped the tip of the needle, satisfied when a small quantity of liquid seeped from the sharp point.

He glanced back up at Michaela, noticing her face dropped into a relaxed sleeping expression, before moving his hand to her abdomen, and ensuring the most suitable location for insertion.

William lined the needle up with her exposed flesh, distracted momentarily by the loud commotion of movement from outside the small examination room.

He frowned, and returned his attention to his patient, the tip of the needle touching her skin, when he heard an assortment of voices, of various pitches and volumes.

"Dr. Mike!" William heard the young man's voice, and looked up from his work, just as he heard the door behind him burst open.

"Michaela!" Sully pushed through the doorway in a mere instant, the emotional energy and exhaustion from running causing him more to fall into the room.

"Just what do you think… out!" William gasped, and responded furiously to such intrusion.

"Get away from her! Mi… Michaela!" Sully glared around the room, realizing just how close he'd come to really being too late.

"You have absolutely no business interfering… this is what she wants…" William turned to defend both himself and his patient's privacy, his voice raised with equally matched anger.

"Like hell it is…" Sully crossed the room in what seemed like a single bound.

"You will leave immediately…" William raised an eyebrow, infuriated more by Sully's arrogance than by his interruption.

"I ain't lettin' you do this…" Sully arrived by the edge of the bed, and looked from the small white tray, across to Michaela's unconscious form. "What… what's wrong with her…?" He looked from her closed eyes, and back to her swollen stomach with a sigh. It really _was_ true.

"I refuse to have this discussion with you whilst I've a patient in my care… Wait outside… and we'll be finished in a few minutes." William ordered, and gestured back towards the door.

"No, _you_ don't understand. I ain't lettin' ya finish… you're stoppin' right this minute… and wakin' her up." Sully grabbed William's right arm firmly.

"Take your hands off me… Michaela came to _me_… she wants this pregnancy terminated," The physician looked from Sully's hand wrapped tightly around his upper arm, back to Michaela.

"What, the baby don't count?" Sully loosened his grasp, and spoke in a lowered tone.

"It is up to her." William shook his head, and felt himself calm down; Sully was beginning to see sense.

"Then I wanna hear it from her, myself." He paused, and spoke very precisely: "Wake… her… up…"

"The risk of a further, unnecessary anesthetic is unethical… My patient's views were perfectly sound." He managed to free himself from Sully's firm grasp and turned back to the small tray.

Sully's eyes flashed wildly the moment he saw the large needle protruding from the metallic syringe in William's right hand.

"I don't care… this is wrong…" Sully gulped, feeling confliction well up from his chest. He wanted to respect Michaela's wishes, however knew, that, regardless of the circumstances, murdering an innocent human being was unjustifiable. His jaw dropped and his eyes darted with incredible speed between William, the syringe, Michaela's stomach, and finally her sleeping face.

"Well… it has been decided…" William cleared his throat, and brought the needle of the syringe back against Michaela's exposed skin.

"No it ain't…" Sully remembered the letter he had read the week before, and was reminded of the dangers to Michaela's health.

"Outside…" William leaned over his patient, and muttered, having to once again feel for fetal position.

Sully looked again from Michaela, to William, and finally back to her enlarged abdomen. _He had to stop this._

Drawing a deep breath, and reacting just as he saw William touch the tip of the needle against her flesh, Sully raised his right hand, pulled it into a tight fist, and delivered a swift, yet effective blow to the left side of William's face, bracing himself for the doctor's weight, as his stunned, limp body fell against him.

"Sorry…" Sully muttered weakly, and carefully let William sink to the floor.

"What the…!" Matthew ran into the room at the sound of the physical altercation, Colleen and Rebecca right behind him.

"He… wouldn't stop. Didn't mean…" Sully took a step away from William's unconscious body, crumpled on the floor beside him.

"Oh my Lord!" Rebecca gasped, not accustomed to such brutality or violence. She drew her hand to her mouth in shock.

"Colleen… gotta do something… wake ya Ma up…" Sully pulled the white cloth quickly from Michaela's face, as the young girl looked around the room slightly panicked.

"Needa find some ammonia…" She gasped, still trying to take in everything that had happened, from the group's frantic run from the hospital several minutes earlier, to the sound of William's passing out and hitting the floor with a _thud_.

"Sully… you knocked him out…" Matthew bent down to check on William, unable to rouse him, however slightly concerned by the large amount of blood trickling down from his left temple.

"Yeah… I, ah… didn't have no choice…" Sully turned his attention back to Michaela, and reached automatically for her hand.

"She all right?" Matthew took a step closer towards the examination table, Colleen arriving back with the small glass bottle of smelling salts.

"Will be… just take a few minutes…" Colleen pulled the stopper from the bottle and slowly began waving it under Michaela's nose.

"Oh my God… were we… too late… is it… I mean… did he…" Matthew stammered nervously, Rebecca rushing up to his side supportively.

"No, were just in time… least I think so…" Sully replied confidently, then more hesitantly, as he discretely adjusted Michaela's blouse and skirt back over her stomach for when she awoke.

"Colleen, can't you… do something?" Matthew gestured towards Michaela. The young girl sighed, and moved the bottle slightly closer.

"I'm tryin'… she's had a lot of chloroform…" She reached down and checked her mother's pulse. It was slightly slowed, but not alarmingly so.

"What about him?" Matthew glanced down at William, who still had his eyes closed.

"He's gonna need stitches from the look of all that blood…" Colleen shook her head and glared at Sully.

"It was an accident… sorta," Sully retorted quickly, as Michaela made a strangled choking sound and fluttered her eyelids several times.

"It's all right, Dr. Mike… wake up…" Colleen squeezed her shoulder soothingly, and handed the smelling salts back to Matthew to hold.

"No, don't… where…" Michaela stuttered, her voice hoarse and weak.

"Ssh… all right, Michaela…" Sully squeezed in next to Colleen, his face brightening the instant he could see into her large eyes.

"Sully…?" Michaela frowned, her eyelids drooping several times as she recognized the voice, but had no idea where she was.

"I'm here…" He smiled as he looked over her confused face, and reached for her hand. "You're safe…"

"Ah, Sully…" Matthew spoke with hushed urgency, having heard William groan softly. He bent down and, with Rebecca's help, managed to pull the dazed physician to his feet, sitting him down in a chair across the room.

"He all right, Colleen?" Sully glanced quickly away from Michaela, to William, the young girl struggling to handle the two semi-conscious doctors.

"Make sure she doesn't fall or anything…" Colleen instructed Sully, as she moved quickly to her brother's side, and applied gauze to the profusely bleeding laceration.

"Where am I, what's…" Michaela heard the assortment of voices, and tried to make sense of them, despite her drug-induced haze.

"Everything's all right…" He wanted to tell her that he knew; that he was sorry; that he loved her. Sully could hear all the soothing phrases collect in his mind, however, now wasn't the time.

Michaela took several deep breaths, as she slowly felt the tiredness begin to drift away, and fragments of reality return.

"_Ahh_…" William pulled away from the pressure Colleen was exerting upon the left side of his head.

"Sorry, Dr. Burke…" Colleen looked too see if the bleeding had subsided.

"What in heaven's happened?" William opened his eyes, his vision blurry for several seconds, as he noticed all the strange faces in the room around him.

"You, ah… got hurt…" Colleen muttered awkwardly, glaring accusingly across the room at Sully. "Think you're gonna need stitches…" Colleen held the bloody gauze in her hand and surveyed the injury.

"Who are…?" William blinked and guessed at the girl's name, "Colleen? What is everyone doing here?"

"Came after Dr. Mike… just in time too, by the looks of everything…" Matthew grunted under his breath, as Sully struggled to keep Michaela in a stationary position.

"Ya gotta stay still…" Sully reached for her shoulders cautiously, seeing the concern and confusion in her expression.

"No… I… William… where?" Michaela struggled to pull herself into a sitting position, feeling Sully's large hands against her shoulders.

"Michaela, lie down… please…" He frowned, not sure what was going on, but knowing the situation needed to be kept as calm as possible.

Rebecca looked from William to her younger sister, and quickly arrived by Sully's side. "It's all right, Michaela… William's just here… you're all right… everything is fine…" She maternally stroked her sister's long hair, as Michaela recognized the more familiar face.

"Rebecca… what happened? I was asleep, did William… why is everyone here?" It wasn't until Rebecca nodded for Sully to allow Michaela into a sitting position, that Michaela was able to recognize the two children across the room for the first time.

"Sully and the children were just worried about you, sweetheart…" She shook her head towards Sully, not sure how to answer the rest of Michaela's question.

"Nothing happened, Michaela… we got here in time… he didn't do anything…" Sully smiled reassuringly and squeezed her right hand tenderly.

She nodded blankly, and glanced down to notice her slightly disheveled clothing. She kept her eyes lowered, as she carefully tucked her blouse back into her skirt and refastened the waistband.

Matthew looked up from Colleen and William at the exact moment Michaela turned to glance across the room. "Ma…" he smiled, and slipped in between Rebecca and Sully to hug her tightly.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry I left…" Michaela locked her arms tightly around the young man's back, as he rested his head lovingly on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Ma… it's fine… just glad we found ya…" He pulled away as her hands dropped from his back; Michaela had spotted Colleen across the room.

"What's she…? William…?" Michaela frowned worriedly, and awkwardly turned to try and slip from the table.

"Michaela, needa rest…" Sully tried to stop her, however, Matthew and Rebecca shrugged when they saw the determination in her eyes.

"Let me," Michaela pushed against Sully and Matthew's hands again, being helped down from the table and arriving by Colleen's side.

The several moments it took for Michaela to notice Colleen and William, and to make her way across the room, afforded her sufficient time to push away the memory of the traumatic minutes before she'd been rendered unconscious. By the time she could see the blood running down his face, she was suitably detached and professional.

"It's not deep, Dr. Mike… just won't stop bleedin'…" Colleen removed the gauze to reveal the split in the thin skin over his left temple.

Michaela knelt down beside Colleen to inspect the injury more closely. "That's because the veins in the face are closer to the surface of the skin… William where's your suture set?" Michaela checked his pupil dilations as he gestured towards a large cabinet across the room.

"Second drawer on the right…" he murmured, Colleen quickly returning with the necessary equipment.

Across the room, Sully, Matthew, and Rebecca watched Michaela and Colleen work to clean the blood from his face, and begin the suturing.

"Can I talk to ya outside?" Sully frowned, and tapped Rebecca gently on the arm.

She nodded seriously and Matthew shrugged as the pair quietly left the room.

"What are you doing here?" Rebecca waited until they were alone in the waiting area.

"Rebecca… I… I didn't know about any of this… Michaela just left… last week, didn't find out until last Thursday. We got here as fast as we could…" He placed his hands on his hips and regulated his breathing.

"Well, that makes two of us… I didn't know until I received a telegram from the hospital Friday night… Michaela and Brian have been staying with me since then…" Rebecca looked back through the doorway as she kept her voice hushed.

"What happened? We received a telegram in Denver… that's how we found her here today…" Sully studied the hesitant look on Rebecca's face.

"She… well, we haven't really discussed it… the doctors at the hospital said she took an overdose…" Rebecca lowered her head glumly.

"Overdose?" Sully shook his head, almost in disbelief.

"Brian found her unconscious… it was just awful… by the time I arrived at the hospital, the doctors were talking about detaining her until after the birth… that's when I asked for Dr. Burke's help… it was he who saw to it that she was discharged." Rebecca came to William's defense immediately, seeing the anger flare in Sully's eyes.

"I'll bet…" his voice was low and sarcastic.

"No, you don't understand… he's been brilliant, Sully… Michaela wouldn't even talk until Sunday… he has seen her every day… checked on her…"

"And… had I not got here when I did… woulda killed her!" Sully raised his left arm back towards the examination room behind them.

"Sully… Michaela's desperate… she doesn't want to carry this child… and I can't say I blame her… it's too much. She's tried everything; William was her last hope." Rebecca sighed.

"But, don't ya see… ain't gonna solve anything… ain't worth the risk…"

"It's not you that has to live through it, Sully…" Rebecca dropped her voice to an emotional whisper. "She's my little sister… I can't stand seeing her distressed like this… all because of what that savage did to her… it's not fair. I just want her to be able to recover from this nightmare… This is what she feels is right, Sully… and I'll support her in that." Rebecca had paced across the room, arriving by the front window.

"You know her… then you know she's just scared… I don't know why, but she didn't tell me… I wish she had of, I would have stopped her from ending up in this mess…" He followed after the eldest Quinn daughter, arriving just behind her. "But I can't let her murder her own child… because I know it's not the answer."

"I'm sorry, Sully… I… I want to support Michaela. It's not my place to take sides…" Rebecca turned around as they heard Matthew come out of the examination room.

"They're just finishin'…" He muttered, not able to look at either one of them.

"Matthew, dear… how are you…?" Rebecca smiled softly, and embraced her nephew in a warm hug.

"Yeah… we're all right, Aunt Rebecca… well… no, actually… but… at least we're here…" Matthew replied, and the three fell into a painful silence.


	78. Chapter 78

**Chapter 78**

"There…" Michaela neatly cut the thread of the last stitch, and handed Colleen the scissors.

"Thank-you…" William acknowledged, his hands resting on his knees.

"I… I'm sorry about…" Michaela wiped her hands on a nearby cloth, as Colleen busied herself cleaning up.

"Please, don't… It wasn't your fault…" William corrected her confidently. Both looked away, neither sure of how to continue.

The silence was broken by the sound of Colleen accidentally dropping an instrument.

"Sorry…" Colleen whispered, and finished placing everything away. She arrived back by Michaela's side, looking between William and her mother slowly.

Michaela reached a hand to her daughter's shoulder, hugging her for several moments, as William rose to his feet, and surveyed the injury with a small mirror.

"Dr. Mike… I… why didn't you tell Sully… why'd you just leave?" Colleen wrapped her arms nervously around her chest.

William watched Michaela struggle to respond to the question.

"I'm sorry…" she rested her hand on Colleen's shoulder for several moments, before turning and changing the subject abruptly. "Colleen… please wait outside, I need to speak with Dr. Burke…" Michaela ushered the girl from the room, as William leaned against the examination table, still in shock.

"William… I… I can't believe all this has happened…" She looked away from his cool, blue eyes, suddenly confronted with the reminder that something in her heart had changed moments before being put to sleep.

"You weren't to know, Michaela…" he shook his head with a weak smile, "do you want to reschedule… or…" He looked up as she replied very sharply.

"No… I…" she exhaled slowly, "I… need some more time…" she dropped her head. _Was she weakening? Was she allowing Sully to influence her?_

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "You've… changed your mind?" He thought back to her incoherent protests, never for a moment taking them seriously until now.

"I… don't know…" she voiced clinically. _No._ She couldn't; she wouldn't let herself remember. She swallowed, feeling his hand pressing down over her mouth, his fingers locked firmly around her wrist. _No; it hadn't happened. I wanted this… didn't I? _She dropped her eyes closed for a mere second, feeling the security of the fine movements within her. She couldn't end that. Glancing back up at William's expectant face, she frowned slightly, "I need to spend some time with my family… I can't do this right now… Tomorrow… might I come and see you…?" She asked, needing to know that she was merely postponing the procedure she still felt was the most rational option.

"Of course…" He took a step forwards, closing the small gap between them, and reaching politely for her hand. "Michaela… you need to make the decision that is right for _you_… The decision that you can live with…" He gripped her hand supportively, as they locked eyes in silence.

"I know… William… last night…" she tore her eyes away; she couldn't look at him and ask, "you… said I meant something to you… I wasn't sure what…" Michaela felt her mouth dry, and very hesitantly dared to glance back up at him. She studied his deep, rich eyes, as he did hers.

"Michaela… I… only want you to be happy… I want to do whatever you wish to ensure that…" he replied carefully, the room silent around them.

"Maybe…" she bit her lower lip and looked quickly around the room, "… maybe that's too much to hope for…"

"It doesn't have to be… it is entirely within your hands…" he tenderly reached for her left hand, and held both tightly. Again the room fell silent, as Michaela recognized the same sparkle in William's eyes she had seen less than a year ago.

"Oh, William…" she drew a breath, the tension between them stifling.

"You need to decide what is right, Michaela. You are the only one who can…" he shook his head slowly, Michaela appreciating the truthfulness in his words.

"When you say that, you remind me of…" Michaela dismissed the sentence quickly, about to cross the room when she felt his hands move to her shoulders.

"I know… He was a great man, Michaela…" William looked directly into her slightly lost eyes as he spoke.

"Yes… he was…" She agreed, noticing the weight of his hands on her small shoulders. Michaela found herself reminded of the events of the previous hour. _Why didn't he stop when I said 'No'? Why did he grab my wrist? What if Sully hadn't arrived? _She studied his sincere expression. _Maybe he just didn't hear me… After all, it was what he thought I wanted… It is what I want… isn't it?_

She looked downwards, feeling confusion and panic sweep over her._ Sully. Once I go out there, I'll have to face him… but he already knows…_

"I'll… I'll see you tomorrow?" Michaela felt the weight lifted from her shoulders, and turned slightly towards the ajar door.

"Fine. Michaela… you really must decide soon. By the end of the week… at the latest…" William replied curtly; slipping back into a professional detachment.

Michaela made her way silently from the room, all four individuals looking up as she arrived out into the waiting area.

"Are you all right, Michaela?" Rebecca rushed to her side.

Michaela nodded quickly, as Sully, Matthew and Colleen approached cautiously.

"Is Dr. Burke all right, Dr. Mike?" Colleen was the first to speak.

"Yes…" Michaela glared across at Sully, appalled by such violence.

Rebecca noticed the awkwardness and suggested they leave, "Shall we return home, I'm sure Brian will be delighted to see you all…" she smiled.

"We missed him," Colleen included Matthew in her statement, as the group filed through the front door.

Sully frowned thoughtfully, seeing the accusation in Michaela's subtle glare. He had expected as much, and knew the hard work was still to come.

**X.O.X**

"Brian… Brian?" Colleen began calling to her brother the moment they were through the front door. She looked around the large entrance foyer, from the sitting room and was just headed towards the bottom of the stairs when she heard quick footsteps from the dining room to her right. Rebecca disappeared upstairs, to give the family some privacy.

"Brian!" she giggled, the small boy running into her arms excitedly.

"Hey… what you all doin' here…?" He hugged her tightly, and only then noticed Matthew and Sully.

"Came to be with ya, little brother…" Matthew arrived by Colleen's side and ruffled his brother's hair.

"Sully? Wow, what's with your hair?" Brian's mouth opened wide, barely recognizing the older man with both his short hair, and the civilized gray suit.

"Thought… it was time for a change…" Sully fobbed the young boy off slightly, Michaela only then noticing the drastic difference.

"Sully…?" she knew the significance of his hair, and had known what an effort it had taken for him to just wear a suit the last time they were here. To look at him now, you'd consider him any other ordinary, respectable gentleman.

"Heya, Brian…" Sully felt the young boy's hands lock around his waist, clearly thrilled by all the familiar faces.

"Knew you'd come… Did ya get my telegram?" Brian looked from Sully to Matthew.

"Sure did… but we were already on our way here," Matthew glanced at Colleen who was discretely observing Michaela's reserved expression. From the despondent expression on her face, she wasn't nearly as pleased by their arrival as Brian was.

Brian frowned, and took each of his siblings by the hand, confused. "That mean we all stayin' here now? Or you takin' me home? Or… we all goin' home?" Brian quickly remembered where his mother had been, and why.

"That's a very good question, Brian…" Sully turned slowly to address Michaela. He tilted his head and shrugged lightly.

The silence in the room was deafening.

Michaela, her jaw ever-so-slightly dropped, eyes large and vacant, glanced from Sully, to Matthew, Colleen, Brian, and then back to Sully. She could feel the energy coming from all four individuals; almost hear their breathing. She realized the reason she hated the attention so much, was that she honestly didn't _know _what she wanted to do. The events of the previous four days had been so extreme, dramatic; she had been presented with so many options. She hadn't counted on the children and Sully showing up in the middle of it all. With that final thought, Michaela shifted her gaze back around the group a second time, the silence continuing.

_What if they hadn't arrived when they did? William would have completed the administration of the saline injection without a doubt... My baby would be dead._

She blinked several times, again thrown by the thoughts flooding through her mind.

_There it is again… why am I thinking that? Why did I want him to stop? _She felt a lump form deep in her throat. She couldn't breathe; she felt physically suffocated by their glares.

"Excuse me…" she dismissed quietly, reaching for the large edge of her skirt, and making her way unobstructed to the stairs. Swallowing, she managed to push the uncomfortable lump away, and continued ascending the stairs feeling more relieved with each step; more relieved the further away she became from their questioning glares.

"What was that?" Matthew folded his arms across his chest nervously, the moment Michaela had disappeared from view.

"Knew this weren't gonna be easy…" Sully shook his head, still aware of the unfamiliar weightlessness, caused by the absence of hair against his neck and shoulders.

"Is Ma all right, Sully? Did she have the operation?" Brian stuffed his hands in the large pockets of his slightly oversized jacket.

"No, Brian…" Sully bent down to wrap an arm around the young boy's shoulders. "Brian… what happened at the hotel?" Sully squinted as the child looked awkwardly between the group.

"Ma… took the medicine… and she wouldn't wake up. And then when we got to the hospital, the doctors were real mad at her… and weren't gonna let her leave… until Dr. Burke came… and he fixed it." Brian alternated his eyes between Matthew and Sully; had he said something wrong?

"And then what happened?" Sully pulled the boy closer, until he could press snugly against his chest.

"They asked where my family was… where we were from, and they said someone needed to come look after me… so I asked for Aunt Rebecca… and then we came here… At first Ma was really upset… but since yesterday she's been all right, even played checkers with me this morning," He smiled brightly, as Sully stood back up.

"Everythin's gonna be fine, Brian… I gotta go talk to ya Ma…" Sully patted the child quickly on the back, and received a nod of encouragement from Matthew as he passed him and arrived at the bottom of the staircase.

"Sully… you'll do fine…" Matthew stared at him confidently, neither breaking eye contact for several seconds, until Sully pulled away and paced up the stairs quite hastily.

**X.O.X**

It wasn't until he arrived at the top of the staircase, that Sully realized the house was unfamiliar to him; he didn't actually know where Michaela was and it was hardly appropriate to simply begin opening doors.

Fortunately, he didn't have to ponder the thought for very long; Rebecca arrived by his side, having come down the corridor to his left from her bedroom.

"She… she came up here…" he stammered, his mouth tightening in concern.

"Down the corridor, first door on the right…" Rebecca gestured casually, hesitating before speaking once again, "Sully… don't… don't yell… or…" she looked away trying to justify her concern, "It's taken days just to have her talking again… she's still… not herself…"

"Be all right… promise." He took a step down the corridor, before turning unexpectedly and locking eyes with Rebecca. "She hasn't been herself since this happened… nothin' new… only wanna talk to her… won't upset her…" He spoke carefully, realizing the seriousness of the situation Rebecca had conveyed to him.

Rebecca nodded, and descended the stairs.

Walking slowly, he arrived by the large bedroom door. Knocking twice, he waited for a verbal acknowledgement.

He knocked again. "Michaela… please…?" Sully whispered, hearing only silence from inside the room.

He drew a breath and waited; suddenly five seconds felt like five years. He'd waited too long already. Reaching his hand slowly to the gold-plated knob, Sully gently pushed the door open.

Michaela sat on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on the mattress either side of her, her gaze focused exclusively on the scene outside her window; layers of green ivy which ran along the wall of the brick house opposite, and a bright blue sky.

"Michaela?" He hated the sound of his own voice; so husky and hollow. Sully quietly slipped into the room, and turned the knob as he closed the door behind him, so as to not make any sound. "Michaela… I'm sorry you didn't feel you could tell me the truth… I'm sorry you had to do this all on ya own…" He murmured, pacing around to the end of the bed, and resting his hands on the wrought-iron frame.

She remained perfectly motionless, her eyes still locked ahead, lost in the world beyond the bedroom.

Sully continued running his hands along the bed frame, not sure if there was anything he could say that would prompt her to speak. After all, he knew he couldn't make her talk if she didn't want to; the events of the weeks leading up to her departure had proven that.

Now was not the time for tact, "Michaela…" he cleared his throat, quickly slipping the sentence out to undermine its significance, "last week… did you… try to kill yourself?" He was pretty sure of the answer, however, knew they needed to start somewhere.

"I… don't know…" came the unanticipated reply, her eyes and body still frozen still.

"Well, did you want to die?" He clasped one hand over the other, barely believing they were having this conversation. From the tone in his voice, they could have been discussing the weather.

"Maybe…" She fluttered her eyelids several times, adjusting her hands slightly against the firm mattress. She didn't think she knew for certain.

"Maybe," Sully frowned and hung his head; he would have preferred her yelling at him to this silence. He unclasped his hands from the iron frame, and crossed his arms with an audible sigh. He shook his head; this was ridiculous. He knew he had to be direct, "Michaela… why didn't you just tell me?" He glanced over at her for a response.

She dropped her head, there had been many reasons. She chose to cite the least personal one, "I knew you'd try and stop me…" Hearing the words leave her mouth, Michaela knew that had only been one of the reasons.

"But… you tried to tell me… several times; that day in the woods… by the creek… the night a the play…"

"I thought you would stop me from leaving…" she reiterated. "Are you telling me you wouldn't have?"

"I don't know… would you have ever told me?" He continued the vague line of questioning, realizing they weren't really getting anywhere, but at least they were communicating.

She frowned, appearing to not understand his question. "Told you?"

"Yeah… told me… had I not come here… found you… would you have just come home in a week's time… as if nothing had ever happened?" Sully felt the frustration rise in his chest; it was only built on fear.

"Nothing _has_ happened…" she dismissed, feeling the strain in the conversation just as much as he did.

He growled lowly, "Ya know what I mean…" He stopped at the volume of her reply.

"Fine, then; _Yes!_ Is that what you wanted to hear? _Yes_… I would have come home… and… I don't know… what does it matter, everything's ruined! It's not going to happen. Thanks to you," Michaela tried to make sense of the anger and fear chasing each other around in her mind.

She was angry; angry that she had changed her mind; let herself down at the last moment; angry that William had taken that control away from her. Angry that Sully had found out. Drawing a breath and forcing herself to calm down, Michaela knew she was just frightened. She was back where she'd started… and once again, didn't know what the future held. She barely heard his question.

"Is it what you want to do, Michaela? Do you think that's going to help?" He pulled away from the end of the bed, and very slowly edged his way around until he was by the window, leaning against the wall.

"I don't know… all I know is, it's the one thing I can control…" she whispered, loathing the uncertainty that had clouded her mind.

"Is it worth risking your life for?" Sully continued, not expecting to have been able to talk quite this rationally.

"This is the only way I know how to take my life back! I just want this to be over…" she heard the same words she'd uttered to William the night before leave her lips.

Sully nodded thoughtfully, wishing they'd been able to have this talk months ago. Carefully, he moved from the window, to the side of the bed, before crouching down by Michaela's side, just in front of her.

"Ain't gonna be over, Michaela… nothin's that simple…" His voice was evenly-paced, his hands clasped against his kneecaps.

"William said I could go away. There's a place… in the city. You could take the children home, and…"

"And leave you all by yourself? Here…? That ain't the answer either…" Sully knew that rationally discussing various options was at least a way of keeping her talking.

"Then why did you have to stop him!" she brought her hands in exasperation to her face, and wearily brushed them down from her forehead over her eyes, nose and cheeks.

"Coz I didn't wanna lose you… not like this… not when it ain't necessary," Sully moved his eyes over her face, waiting for her to pull her hands away.

She shook her head weakly, still not removing her hands, "It's safe… well, safer…" she drew a choked breath, feeling confused and worried tears threaten to fall from her eyes.

"But… I don't understand how you could want this. Ain't natural… I woulda thought you'd be against it," He hesitated about to reach for her right arm, when she quickly pulled her hands from her face.

"Why? Because I'm a doctor… a woman? Or because _you_ don't approve?" She tucked her arms tightly around her waist, not understanding her own emotional outbursts; just able to feel raw anger and panic welling under her skin. She felt trapped.

"That ain't fair, Michaela…" Sully defended, delicately resting his left hand on her right shoulder.

She moved deliberately from his grasp. "…since when is life fair," she glared at him in contempt, before turning away sullenly. "Leave me alone…"

"Michaela… we've spent five days getting to you… now you're telling me to go?" He couldn't hide the hurt in his eyes.

"That's right," she narrowed her eyes into a vicious expression. "Don't see why you bothered," she turned away, unable to withstand the helpless looks of pain that spread across his face.

"Michaela, I know ya hurtin'… and I know it's partly my fault… but I ain't givin' up on you that easy. I don't care what you say, I don't care if you hate me… but I ain't quittin' 'til we work through this," He gestured out towards the corridor, "… those children love ya… I love ya… and we ain't lettin' this beat you… You're stronger than that… you're the strongest person I know… we'll get through this…" He didn't expect her to respond, however merely observed as the anger melted from her tear-stained face.

"What if I don't want to? What if I can't…?" Her voice was uninflected and thick with tears.

"Then we'll help ya. You don't gotta be strong all on ya own…" He nodded with a reassuring smile. "All right if Colleen and Matthew come see ya… they been missin' ya too…" he reached forwards to squeeze her hand as she slowly nodded, still not sure.

As he turned and rose from the side of the bed, he heard her unsteady voice. "Sully… What happened to your hair?" she lowered her eyebrows, having noticed it downstairs, but not wanting to comment.

He smiled, a small reassuring smile. "It's… ah different…" he watched her eyes move around his face and hairline.

"Why did you…?"

He sat on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to decide; no, he would tell her the truth. "Thought… after last time. I ain't stupid; I know it weren't exactly… conventional,"

"Since when did you care about being conventional?" Michaela baulked, taking in his stunning gray suit, and polished leather shoes.

"Since you, Michaela. Sometimes principles ain't as important as the people you care about." He watched her take in his meaning.

"So, you did this… for me?" her voice tapered off as she felt her chin tremble involuntarily.

"Yeah… Wanted you to know that there ain't nothin' I wouldn't do for ya," He couldn't help but smile, as she struggled to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry… I'm not crying… I'm not…" she shook her head, and continued gliding the backs of her hands against her skin.

"Don't matter," he reassured as their eyes locked once again.

"I'll… get the kids…" He stood from the bed and crossed the room, closing the door softly behind him. As he strode down the corridor, his mind was clouded with fragments of conversation. There were more questions than answers; had she tried to kill herself? Was she right in wanting an abortion? Had he gone too far, in taking the decision away from her? Was it even his place? Surely… it is her body… she deserved this one choice…

He moved quickly down the stairs, and found all three children in the sitting room.

"Dr. Mike all right?" Matthew looked up from the couch.

"Depends… Why don't ya all go see her… reckon she's missed the three a ya together…" He smiled, as Brian squirmed off his brother's lap.

"Come on, Matthew… tell Ma about the train trip…" He pulled on his brother's hand, as Colleen rose to her feet and straightened out her dress.

"Sully? What's happening?" Colleen whispered to him quietly, as Brian dragged Matthew towards the stairs.

"Not sure, Colleen… just… go spend some time with ya Ma…" He squeezed her shoulder gently, and smiled as the three children took to the stairs at various speeds.

He glanced around the room for several moments, before pacing across the entrance foyer to the dining room; he needed to speak with Rebecca.

**X.O.X**

"How was the trip?" Michaela began, once the children had settled themselves around the room.

"Ahh… was fine…" Matthew noticed the disinterest on Colleen's face.

"Did you guys get to sleep on the train like we did?" Brian sat awkwardly on his sister's lap on the edge of the bed.

"Sure did…" Matthew smiled, crouched down by the edge of the mattress in front of Brian.

"And Sully's hair? I can't believe he cut his hair…" the excited little boy continued, "he looks like he used to… like a normal person…" he giggled, looking upwards at his sister, then to his brother and finally his mother.

"All right, Brian…" Matthew tapped the boy's knee, to settle him. The room dropped into silence.

Matthew cleared his throat, as he rose to his feet, slowly pacing around the room. He turned back every few minutes, Michaela sitting on the window side of the bed, Colleen and Brian the other. _This is stupid… anything is better than this… silence…_

"Isn't… uh… the house… ah… really nice…" Matthew rubbed his hand over his chin, glaring at his younger sister for support.

"Ah, yes… the house is really… delightful…" she smiled falsely, her tone dead.

Fortunately, Brian hadn't picked up on the superficiality of their conversation. "It's huge! And you oughta see Penny's room! Colleen, you'd love it… it's all pink, with white curtains, and dolls and bears everywhere…" His face broadened into a wide, genuine smile. Michaela glanced up at his bright grin, the solemn mood of Matthew and particularly Colleen, not going unnoticed by her.

"Brian, tell Matthew about the checkerboard Edmund has… we played this morning…" Michaela instructed, the young boy launching quickly into a long, drawn-out rant.

Matthew moved from the window to the side of the bed, whilst Brian talked, trying his best to feign interest, although unable to avoid his sister's cold, angered glare.

"And… then I cornered her… and then it was all over… so I won…" he chuckled dusting his hands together proudly.

"Don't get too cocky there, Brian… I can still beat ya any day a the week…" Matthew wiggled his eyebrows with a cheesy grin upon his face.

Colleen sighed noisily, fed up with her brothers' antics. "Please…" she rolled her eyes in contempt, and coldly moved Brian from her lap.

"Colleen, is everything all right?" Michaela narrowed her eyes in concern and leant across the bed to the girl.

She merely shrugged and looked away. Again the room fell into a deathly silence. Matthew tapped his foot lightly against the foot of the bed frame, sucking in his cheeks and intensifying the glare towards his sister.

"Aghhh!" she exclaimed, her voice ragged. "Excuse me…" Colleen huffed in exasperation and pushed herself from the edge of the bed, storming out of the room in frustration.

Michaela glanced up at Matthew questioningly. He shrugged and folded his arms tightly across his chest.

"So, we goin' home now?" Brian piped up, having crawled up the bed to Michaela's side.

"I don't know, sweetheart…" she sighed and began stroking his back softly.

Matthew gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, embarrassed by his sister's unconcealed rudeness. "You all right, Ma?" he rubbed his arm, feeling the remaining tension from Colleen's departure. "Sorry…" he dismissed quickly, realizing the foolishness of his question. There they were, days from home, having just rescued their mother from potentially killing herself in an attempt to terminate a pregnancy that was forced upon her at knifepoint by a renegade dog solider. Of course, everything was… _perfectly all right_… He ran his hands down his face, taking a deep breath.

"Matthew… you don't have to feel as though you need to fix everything. You're not responsible for your sister…" Michaela reassured, as Brian snuggled tightly under her arm.

"I know… just feels so… I just can't stand everyone being this… awkward…" He sighed and dropped his hands back down to his knees.

"I know…" she agreed, uncomfortably moving Brian's head away from her chest.

"Come on, little brother… leave Ma to rest before supper… let's see if you can beat _me_ at checkers…" Matthew heaved himself from the mattress, pacing around the side of the bed to teasingly drag Brian up by his underarms.

"Hey… Matthew… stop it… tickles…" Brian giggled, struggling for breath, as Matthew carried him across the room.

"What?" Matthew chuckled, "What was that?" He clutched the boy tighter, tickling him some more.

"Tick… tickles…" Brian squealed, in hysterics, as Matthew flashed a grin at his mother.

Michaela returned the smile sincerely, yet wearily, as the child's infectious laughter echoed along the hallway. She sat for several minutes longer, reflecting over the incidents of the traumatic day. Again, a single thought stirred in her mind; _What if they hadn't arrived when they did?_

She moved her eyes downwards to regard her firm stomach, which was just visible beyond her enlarged chest.


	79. Chapter 79

**Chapter 79**

Sully had moved awkwardly around the house, talking in a hushed voice with Rebecca every now and then, and with Matthew and Colleen. He tried to remember what he had planned to do once they arrived. He hadn't anticipated it being this difficult… this… isolated.

Brian and Penelope disappeared to play once she arrived home from school, and still Michaela stayed in her room.

Around six o'clock Sully and Colleen found themselves pacing aimlessly around the sitting room. Colleen had admired the fine artwork on the walls at least three times, before both realized something needed to change.

"This is hopeless…" Colleen sighed, dropping down to the large couch in the middle of the room.

"I know…" Sully went to flick his hair back with his right hand, before realizing there was nothing there to move.

"Weren't what I thought would happen…" Colleen mumbled, Sully muttering an intrigued '_Oh'_ as she continued, "… thought… she'd be more upset… thought she'd even be angry…" Colleen shook her head and turned her gaze towards the stairs, gesturing to the bedrooms.

"She's confused, Colleen. Strugglin' to cope… not coping, I don't think…" he considered.

"You ain't gonna let her have the abortion, are you?" Colleen frowned, seeing the weakness in Sully's eyes.

"Let her? Ain't gonna _let_ her, no… it's up to her. I don't know… I thought I did…" He sighed, taking a seat next to her.

"Why can't we just all go home…?" Colleen gripped her hands tightly in her lap. She just wanted everything to return to normal. Although she barely remembered what that was.

"Because I ain't gonna force her to do somethin' she ain't ready to do, Colleen… if she needs time to decide what _she_ wants, then… that's what we'll do…"

"But she don't even know what she wants! How do we know she ain't gonna hurt herself again. What if she decides that's what she wants?" Colleen looked away miserably.

"Well, that's why we're here… gonna listen… try and talk... be supportive. Ain't about telling her what to do, it's about guidin' her into makin' the right decision."

Colleen glanced up at him skeptically, "… and you know what that is?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Reckon we gotta get her home… Colorado Springs gonna be more acceptin' than Boston, any day… and, much as I wanna support her, will do everything I can to stop her killing that baby… I promise ya," Sully reached for the young girl's arm gently.

"You think it's murder too?" Colleen sighed, relieved that someone actually felt the same way as her.

"Not as simple as that… Mostly I think it's gonna make it harder for ya Ma. Maybe not for a month… even six months… but after a year or so… she's always gonna remember… and it's just gonna be something more to feel guilty about… And _that_ guilt… _would_ be real…"

They both looked up as the sounds of running feet down the stairs could be heard.

"Hey kids…" Sully smiled, as Brian and Penny skipped down the stairs in their outlandish costumes.

"Hey Sully…" Brian hung his head, slightly embarrassed at the game he'd been roped into.

"What ya playin'?" Sully chuckled and gestured towards Penelope's long skirt, which trailed several feet behind her.

"Ask her…" Brian cringed, and gestured towards the young girl, who looped her arm around his proudly.

"I'm the mother and he's the father, and we're going out to dinner…" Penelope drawled, Brian chuckling uncontrollably.

"Ya sound like Aunt Marjorie… stop it!" He nudged her playfully in the ribs, as she pulled him along.

"Come along, daarrrling… we don't want to be late…" She pointed her nose up towards the ceiling, and clutched the china doll tighter in her right arm, the pair moving away quickly down the hall.

Colleen rolled her eyes, "Poor Brian… bet he misses his frogs right about now…"

"I'll say," Sully shook his head, as the children disappeared into the study.

Colleen paced around the large sitting room, stopping at a small collection of photographs above the mantel. "Hey, Sully… look…" she smiled, as he arrived by her side. "Reckon that's Dr. Mike?" she pointed to the framed family portrait.

"Gotta be… she's the youngest…" Sully grinned softly, seeing the resemblance immediately. "Wonder what happened to those curls, though…" He observed, as Colleen placed the picture back and reached for another.

"Must be Aunt Rebecca… look at that dress… isn't that pretty!" Colleen admired the wedding photo, with an awed gasp.

"Sure is…" Sully nodded, awkwardly detached from the moment. He felt out of place.

"Sully… know it's none a my business… but… you and Dr. Mike… were courtin'… reckon ya woulda been married by now, if…" She shrugged and carefully placed the photograph back.

"Maybe… I really don't know… a lot of things would have been different. Colleen… marriage… is just a piece of paper…" He began, the young girl looking up, her objection obvious. "What I meant is… it ain't the weddin' ceremony what matters. What matters is every day… showin' ya care for someone, showin' ya love them… Now… ya know I care for ya Ma. I care for all of ya… and I love her. Always will…" He drew a breath, Colleen calmly accepting his words, "… and whether we actually get married or not… ain't gonna mean I'll love her any the more… just like not gettin' married won't mean I'll love her any less."

"So, like you're already married… sorta…" she frowned, trailing off.

"Sorta… all I meant was… actually gettin' married ain't gonna change anything. I'm already committed to your Ma… whether she knows it or not…" Sully stated firmly.

"Sully… can I ask ya somethin'…" Colleen thought since they were on the subject, she'd ask a question that had been burning away at her for a few weeks now. He nodded with a welcoming smile, and she pursed her lips nervously. "Well… thing is… Lewis and I… well… we been kinda friendly… and… he, well… he's been real nice to me… When we were rehearsin' for the play, he… we… kissed…" She blushed slightly, and looked away, "… except Dr. Mike saw us… and… got mad…"

"I see…" Sully shifted his weight between both feet, feeling the more awkward demands of fatherhood being thrown at him.

"And… well… she says I'm too young to be seein' him… lettin' him kiss me… but it was only a kiss… and… I… like him… and I… I…" Colleen stumbled, and looked up at him for advice.

Sully nodded, and dropped his hands to the girl's shoulders.

"Colleen… you think maybe Dr. Mike was overreacting?"

"Did at the time… Sully, do you think she really meant I'm too young to be seeing Lewis… or do you think it's just because she's scared?" Colleen looked into Sully's accepting eyes.

"Maybe it's both, Colleen. I know courtin' is very different here… than in Colorado… Might be Dr. Mike was just comparing you to the standards she was raised to… and also might be she's scared of ya gettin' hurt…" He brushed the girl's hair back over her shoulder.

"But that ain't my fault… ain't my fault she never kissed a boy 'til she was twenty-five. Ain't my fault she got hurt, so why's she takin' what happened to her… out on me?" Colleen felt a guilty feeling build up in her chest. Maybe she was being too hard on Michaela.

"None of it is anyone's fault, Colleen… and that includes ya Ma…" Sully paused, _twenty-five?_ He returned his attention to the conversation at hand, "So… you like Lewis, don't ya?" He smiled, seeing Colleen's eyes dance with infatuated embarrassment.

"Well, yeah…" Her cheeks reddened further.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with that, far as I can see… and… ain't nothin' wrong with the two of ya bein' friendly… long as you're honest about how ya feel… and with him… long as you're comfortable." Sully waited for Colleen to absorb his words.

"What about Ma, though? If she doesn't want me seein' him…" Colleen replied quickly.

"Well… if it's a problem… I'll talk to her… You know though… it's more about ya Ma than about you…"

"Yeah… she sure weren't so…" Colleen searched for the best word, "_defensive_… before… always been kinda… sensitive about it all… never knew why… even when we were talkin' 'bout kissin'… she's all 'ya needa be careful'… and that was over a year ago… was that just how she's been raised?" Colleen felt Sully's arms drop from her shoulders, as he pondered a suitable response.

"I don't know… we ain't ever really talked about it… only that those things were… are very different here," Sully looked around the room slowly.

"Coz of her family? Coz they're rich?" Colleen frowned, examining her neatly manicured fingernails.

"Could be… I know marriages are often arranged between families like this… that often a young lady doesn't have the luxury of choosing her husband… often decided when she's still a child… I mean… how would it be if ya Ma and Pa said you were marryin' Benjamin Avery from the time you were Brian's age…" Sully chuckled at the openly horrified look that flashed across Colleen's face.

"I'd be runnin' away…" she answered jokingly; however both quickly realized the truthfulness in her words.

"Wouldn't be much fun havin' to marry someone you didn't even love… would it?" Sully watched Colleen shake her head confidently.

"Don't know if I even wanna get married…" Colleen shrugged turning towards the warm fire.

"You will. You'll meet some dashing young man…" Sully cupped the back of her head tenderly.

The pair watched the fire in a comfortable silence for several minutes, Colleen resting her head against Sully's chest.

**X.O.X**

Matthew wandered around the large garden behind the residence, his hands stuffed deeply into his pockets. He felt frustrated; angry. He felt out of control. He remembered fragments of the conversation they'd had whilst sitting with Michaela.

"_How was the trip?"_

"_Isn't the house delightful…"_

"_Can you believe Sully cut his hair…?"_

The young man shrugged off the frustration, as he kicked a stone across the perfectly kept grass.

He kept his head lowered on the stone he'd just assaulted, as he heard the back door bang closed many yards away. A smile broadened on his face.

"Brian… told ya, I ain't savin' ya from Penny no more… just go and tell her you don't wanna pl-" He turned and looked up, his words catching in his throat. "… sorry… thought Brian was using me to escape his cousin…" Matthew apologized, receiving a small smile of understanding.

The young man turned back to gaze out across the spacious surroundings, for the first time, noticing the chill in the air. "You ain't cold?"

"No…" Michaela's reply was soft, yet succinct. Matthew looked back at her as she spoke.

Matthew nodded slowly, and turned his head back away to the precisely trimmed flowers and shrubs which lined the garden. He didn't know what to say. _How ya feelin'? _No. _We really missed you…_ Rather obvious. He kept licking his lips, and moving his mouth, hoping that maybe the inspiration would come. Nothing.

He heard her footsteps approach from behind and could discreetly see her out of the corner of his right eye. He felt like he needed to say something. But he didn't want to say the wrong thing. Fortunately, he didn't need to.

"When did Sully find out?" Michaela wrapped the knitted shawl tighter around her shoulders, arriving by Matthew's right side.

"Last Thursday… came into town," He winced, the guilt becoming unbearable, "I'm sorry, Ma… didn't mean to tell him… but… well, he knew you were gone… and you know what he's like… in the end he practically guessed… if I hadn't a told him, Colleen woulda…" he still didn't look at her, "… she found the letter… from the doctor… that's how we knew where ya were,"

Michaela saw the young man's face crumple into guilt and worry, and slowly reached her left hand forwards to brush the back of his shoulder and arm. "It's all right, Matthew… It was probably for the best…"

"Ain't ya mad? Sully… we… wrecked everything… if we hadn't a come here, it'd all be over… Now, between him and Colleen… they ain't gonna let you…" He shrugged, unsure of the terminology, and not really wanting to be overly descriptive.

"I don't think it was what I wanted anyway…" she drew an emotional breath.

"What do ya mean? Today at William's, you were gonna,"

"I know… but… I'd had doubts…" Michaela was still thwarted by her own confusion.

"Ma… no-one wants you to do this. I mean, well, it ain't like you gotta feel it's what people want… because we don't."

"Matthew, it's not as simple as what I want…"

He cut her off abruptly, "Yes it _is_. We just… wanna be a family. Be together…"

"… Matthew, that is very… idealistic, and sweet… but there's other people to consider…"

"Like who?" He snapped quickly, knowing she was referring to Sully.

"All of you… Colleen, and Brian… I don't want them having to suffer because of this… it would reflect on all of you, and I refuse to let that happen…"

"Don't care about that… neither do they…" His voice raised slightly as he continued, "Ma, you've no idea how frightened Colleen was for you… after she read that letter… nothin's worth losing you over… nothin'…"

"Well, what if it didn't need to be that way?" Michaela moved her arm around her son's back, considering the only other viable option.

"Ma?"

"I could… stay here… and then come back home _after_…" She voiced delicately, feeling as though she was more just speaking her thoughts out loud than actually communicating.

"After… what good would that do? For starters it would just look suspicious, and even Hank ain't that dumb…" He took a breath, and softened his voice, "And… why would we wanna go home without you? We've all been petrified since gettin' that telegram Saturday in Denver… Ma, don't you understand that? I care more about you than what the likes of Hank, or some dumb school kid might say… And that goes for Colleen and Brian too…"

"Yes, but… it's easy to think that now… in a few months, it might be-"

"In a few months, nothing." He spoke over her very quickly. "I mean it, Ma. Don't care about anyone else… Besides… Miss Olive was nothing but supportive… and… I'll bet most a the town'll be the same… is that what you're scared of, Ma? What people will say?"

"Somewhat… I'm used to it, though… my entire life practically, people have been talking about me behind my back… only, it's usually things I'm proud of…"

"Then, what else?" He pushed a little further, seeing the distraction in her eyes.

"That people will think I wanted it… that… Sully, won't… feel the same…"

"He loves you," Matthew countered honestly, and without hesitation.

"He feels sorry for me," Michaela corrected sharply, and pulled her hand away, folding them both tightly across her chest.

"But that doesn't mean he can't also love you…"

"I don't want his love… out of pity…" Michaela was on his heels quickly with each rebuttal.

"It's not. He loved you before… he's never stopped loving you…" Matthew turned to his right, shaking his head to add conviction to his words.

Michaela looked away, her eyes dropped downwards, as she accepted his comment. There was a considerable pause, whilst he gazed over her slightly pale complexion, her wind-blown hair. She'd put on noticeable weight in little more than a week. He was just about to glance back to the sunset in front of them, when he heard her almost whispered question.

"Matthew, what if it was Ingrid?" Michaela could tell she had thrown him off-balance.

"Wh-what?" He stammered, not expecting her name to feature in the present conversation.

"If this had happened to Ingrid…" Her voice adopted a cool, clinical tone.

"Dr. Mike… I really don't wanna go…" His jaw wobbled, and his voice wavered uncomfortably.

"Why?" She raised an eyebrow, her tone direct.

"Because… because I love her… we're gettin' married… can't even…" The thought repulsed him.

"Exactly."

He felt his stomach drop, realizing he'd walked right into that trap. "No… I meant, I…"

"Would you want to marry her… or would you just feel sorry for her?"

"I… I'd…" he searched desperately for the right words, feeling slightly nauseated by the thought, "… I'd… both…"

Michaela dropped her gaze, studying the finely woven yarn of the cream-colored shawl. "… and could you love a child that wasn't your own?"

"I could love her… and, yes, I could love her child… coz it'd be a part of her, too," Matthew stated honestly, feeling the queasiness dissipate slowly.

Michaela didn't utter another word. Matthew looked between her and the stunning sunset, as he felt the tension gradually soften between them.

"Ma… ya gotta talk to Sully…" He spoke plainly.

"I know…" Again there was a long silence, as they both watched the sun continue to descend magnificently into the horizon.

"Is Colleen angry with me?" Michaela asked quietly, having noticed the girl's detached manner all afternoon.

"She's just young… doesn't understand how things can be complicated… not angry with you… angered by your decision… she'll get over it…" Matthew spoke frankly, his age affording him a touch of wisdom, however.

"And you?" Michaela enquired lightly.

"Ma, you know how I feel… whatever you think is best… I'll support…" He reiterated strongly.

"But what do _you_ think?" She pressed, taking a step closer to the young man's side.

"Well, I think… we all needa go home… Give people a few weeks… let the gossip and rumors die down… then everything will be fine… people'll find somethin' new to talk about… you know what they're like…" Matthew watched her consider his suggestion, her eyes moving awkwardly as she played out the notion in her mind.

"But that'd be like admitting defeat… all over again…" she trailed off, both turning at the sound of the door opening behind them.

"Ellen says supper's ready…" Brian ran quickly out onto the back lawn, slipping between his mother and brother.

"Oh, she did, did she?" Michaela smiled and placed both her hands around the boy's small shoulders.

"Uh-huh… and she made heaps… soup… and… and somethin' I couldn't understand…" he frowned, preferring it when he at least could pronounce the name of the food he was going to be eating.

"Cordon bleu?" Michaela prompted, Brian dropping his head back to smile up at her.

"Aww, yeah… that ain't like snails, is it?" He made an unimpressed face.

"No… you'll like it…" Michaela reached for the child's hand, as Matthew slipped his arm around her back, and the three walked unhurriedly back towards the house.

**X.O.X**

"I must say, Mr. Sully… I would have hardly recognized you…" Edmund waited until they'd started dessert before contributing to the conversation.

"Oh… yes, I know… it's, uh… different…" Sully nodded politely, and brought his fork slowly to the creamy chocolate cake on the small plate in front of him.

"Certainly does make you look more civilized… I must say, seeing you last year… at Mrs. Quinn's birthday… well… I was not quite sure what to make…" He smirked lightly, Matthew and Colleen meeting eyes at the tension.

"Well, in my experience, sir, the length of a person's hair is not generally any indication as to their degree of civility." Sully replied very correctly, Rebecca dropping her eyes closed, in silent prayer that they wouldn't end up in a disagreement.

"No, but, it does perhaps, lend oneself to question… just who such a person wishes to identify with…" Edmund continued, Matthew seeing his aunt's concern, and quickly coming to the rescue.

"Aunt Rebecca… I just wanted to thank you once again, for… being so… accommodating… and you also, Uncle Edmund… three extra people with no notice, is a lot to ask…" Matthew saw the unshielded relief flash across his aunt's face.

"That's quite alright, Matthew… Colleen can share with Penny… which will leave Brian's room for yourself and Sully…" Rebecca informed the group tactfully.

Brian frowned, and looked up nervously, "Where am I meant to sleep?" His jaw trembled.

"In the cellar… with the rats and the mice…" Matthew leant closer towards him and spoke very slowly. He chuckled quietly.

The small boy glared up at his aunt, terrified.

"Matthew… really. Brian you'll need to share with your mother…" she watched the relief recolor the child's face.

"Oh… all right…" He shrugged and eagerly spooned another mouthful of the rich dessert into his mouth.

"Not hungry, Colleen?" Sully noticed everyone had at least touched their dessert apart from the girl.

"Nah…" she muttered and clasped her hands together in her lap.

"Are you feeling all right?" Michaela frowned and looked towards her.

Colleen didn't succeed in hiding her contempt, "Don't worry… I'm not dyin'…" She rolled her eyes, and glanced back down at the food on her plate.

The table fell into an uncomfortable silence, Brian's surprised gasp breaking everyone out of their awkwardness.

"Nothin'…" he supplied quickly, having managed to glance down at his left hand and locate the source of his shock.

Matthew and Edmund Jr. quickly absorbed themselves back into conversation, as did Rebecca and her husband. Brian and Penelope began an invisible eye communication, leaving only Sully, Michaela and Colleen unoccupied.

After another painful ten minutes or so, Brian and Penelope quickly asked to be excused, and ran off towards the stairs with excited giggles. Matthew and Edmund Jr. retreated to the library, Colleen taking one frustrated glare around the table before deciding to join them.

"Rebecca, I really do apologize for the inconvenience…" Michaela smiled as Ellen finished taking the dishes out into the kitchen.

"It's not a problem, Michaela… I promise… I think it's wonderful… to have everyone together. It's a great support…" She smiled across at Sully sincerely.

Michaela nodded thoughtfully and wondered what to do to occupy the next two hours or so, until she could reasonably justify that it was bedtime.

Edmund pushed back his chair and glanced around the table politely, "Do excuse me, I've some preparations to make for a meeting tomorrow morning… good evening…" he was suitably cordial, and leant over to kiss Rebecca softly on the cheek. "I will be working late in the study… don't wait up, dear…" He left the dining room quickly.

Rebecca looked carefully between both Sully and Michaela, sensing a nervousness.

"Shall we… move to the sitting room?" she gently folded the napkin in her lap and placed it on the corner of the table.

Sully glanced across at Michaela, who did the exact same thing.

"I'm not fussed…" she shrugged, although struggled to keep her eyes open.

"Rebecca… if you don't mind… I think we've a bit of catching up to do…" Sully got to his feet, and looked to Michaela.

"Oh, please… I can go upstairs… you won't be interrupted in there…" Rebecca smiled and gestured across the entrance foyer behind her.

"Thank-you…" Sully nodded as Rebecca departed from the room. Wearily Michaela rose to her feet, and led the way through.

"Sully… do we really need to…" she took a seat by the fire, realizing she'd sat in the exact same spot the night before with William.

"Yes, I think we do…" Sully paced around without speaking for a minute or so, before eventually taking a seat. "Have you thought about what you want to do?"

"Have I thought about anything else?" she muttered sarcastically and looked away.

"Michaela… I'm tryin'… we're all tryin'… I need you to be honest with me… I need to know what _you_ want to do…" He saw the fascination with which she observed the flickering flames before her.

"I don't know… I just wanted all this to be over… I thought _that_, would be the right thing… I thought it would _feel_ right…" she continued to be transfixed by the dancing flames.

"That? You mean this afternoon… with William…" Sully noticed she was tiptoeing around the specifics. She nodded, and he frowned slightly, "… and it didn't?"

She shook her head very quickly.

"So why did you go through with it?" He kept his voice neutral.

"I… I didn't… Well, I suppose I did… I changed my mind, but by then it was too late…" Michaela hesitantly brought her gaze back in Sully's direction, although not actually looking at him.

It took a lot of control for Sully to not let his anger cloud his judgment. _Had she tried to stop it? Had she said 'no'? And, if so, had he continued regardless?_ He was just glad he'd arrived when he did. "Well, you don't need to worry…"

"Thanks to you…" Michaela met his eyes briefly, before quickly deflecting her gaze away again.

"What do you want to do now? Do you want to go away… have some time alone… if it's what you want, I can take the children home…" Sully proposed the suggestion, knowing full well he did not support it.

"I don't know… I… I don't want to have to think about it… I've never wanted to have to… and that's been my own fault… I ignored and ignored it… thinking maybe it would just go away… Then when Myra was pregnant… all I could think was, how unfair it was… that she was so happy… that everyone was so happy for _her_." Michaela swallowed and looked down at her small hands in her lap.

"I understand…" he began, continuing quickly when he saw the disbelief flash across her face, "know it ain't the same… but… after Abigail died… seein' couples together… made me feel angry… cheated… that life weren't fair… 'til I met you… and even then, once we'd spent some time together… I weren't prepared for the guilt. I didn't understand how I could feel so happy to have met you… to be rid of the anger… but then so guilty, because I thought people would think it inappropriate… probably because I felt I was breaking my promise to Abigail… took me a long time… almost a year… to realize I didn't have to accept that guilt." Sully saw her shoulders rise as she drew a breath.

"From the first day I woke up… I was determined to put it behind me. Not to remember… not to talk… not to think. It was difficult for a few weeks… I just had to move an inch, and I'd be reminded." She knew it was probably very improper to be discussing such matters so openly. But she didn't stop. Sully was different… he wasn't like William, or Rebecca's husband. He didn't get uncomfortable… or awkward. She knew she could talk about anything. "Once I started back at work, everything was easier… the children were busy with school… and there were always problems… but… they weren't _my_ problems. I knew people were talking… but even that stopped after a month or so… Myra and Horace were married… there was the auction and the dance… and for about three weeks… I could delude myself into thinking it had never happened. There was probably even a day or two when I didn't relive it," she smiled cynically for a fraction of a second. Her smile quickly dropped away, "… and then… I started to worry… I waited… thinking it was just stress… or… anything… I wanted it to be anything else… I was so desperate… to believe it wasn't possible, that I again denied the truth… ignored it… and continued for another month. Your birthday… we met with Snowbird and Cloud Dancing again…" Michaela chewed lightly on her lower lip, knowing that 'meeting with Snowbird and Cloud Dancing again' wasn't the specific event of that day to which she was referring. " …and it was that night… I'd been talking with Brian... God, I didn't even realize for twelve weeks…" Michaela let the trapped air in her lungs out in an exasperated sigh.

Sully, having remained patiently attentive on the chair opposite saw the frustration in her eyes, heard it in her voice. "How did you?" he muttered quickly, wanting her to keep talking.

"I could feel," she shrugged, her voice thick with self-mocking, "… great doctor, aren't I… had it been anyone else… and…" She looked up, as Sully challenged the ritualized thought immediately.

"But it _weren't_… weren't anyone else… was _you_… makes a difference…"

"Then why did I _let_ this _happen_!" she felt her cheeks grow puffy with emotion. Her voice was desperate and helpless.

Sully looked at the space between them, wanting to get to his feet and move to her side; Hold her… comfort her, let her cry… Could he? Is that what she wanted? Was he thinking of himself?

Michaela saw his legs twitch only slightly, as her eyes clouded with tears. She dropped her head forward, expecting to feel his large hands around her shoulders, his voice close in her ear. The tears continued, thickening when she realized he hadn't moved. She took a breath, and wiped at her eyes, as the distant voice returned.

"You didn't let this happen…" he whispered, although he knew she knew that. She nodded, still feeling lone tears trickle down her face. "Everyone knows that…" he continued and again she nodded, having managed to control the tears.

"Will you come home?" he kept his bright blue eyes fixed on her face, searching for her. She wouldn't meet his gaze.

"I… can't…" she looked up at him, as if he'd just asked her to walk on water.

He shrugged, allowing the hypothetical conversation to continue. He kept his voice ever-so-slightly humored, as if they weren't really talking about it seriously. "Why not?"

"Because… because, I can't… everyone will know… why do you think I left?" She again looked at him as if he was absurd.

"No, _you_ left to get rid of the baby, so you wouldn't have to tell _me_… that I understand. I want to know what it is you're so scared of, about going back…" He watched the frustration build in her eyes, as she searched for a reply.

"I… I…" she sighed and rose quickly to her feet, moving across the room to the fireplace. "I think you give yourself too much credit…"

He wanted to smile. He could see the Michaela he loved in her anger. She was cornered, frustrated and lashing out to try and push him away. Only… it wasn't going to work. Not this time. Never again.

"Alright… apart from that…" He took the criticism gladly.

"Apart from that, what?" she could just about _hear_ the disregard in his voice. Thinking that if she insulted him, he'd leave her alone.

"Well… now that we're all here… why won't you come back home?" He, very determinedly, returned to the topic at hand.

"Because… I don't want them to know…" she replied quietly.

"To know what?" he knew she had to say it.

"To know… about this…" she knew she couldn't say it.

"Michaela, not even Hank is that stupid… you up and disappear for five months… everyone's gonna know…"

Michaela chuckled flatly under her breath, "I've had this exact conversation with Matthew this afternoon…"

"Matthew's a smart young man…" Sully paused before gently directing her back to the question, "So… whether you go home or not… the town will find out… we've established that, Is there another reason you don't want to go home?" He knew he was possibly approaching the issue with far less reserve than Michaela would have wished, however, they had long passed the point of being delicate.

"No… I don't know… Sully… you're talking as if… we could just… go home!" Michaela dropped her hands in frustration back to her sides, and she spun around to face him, her face wild and her eyes large.

"We _can_ just go home…" He raised his hands out, palms up, casually.

"No we can't!" she rephrased quickly, "I can't!"

"Michaela… know this is difficult… and ain't sayin' it's gonna be easy… but ya ain't gonna be alone… I'll be there… kids'll be there… and your true friends'll be there. That's gotta be better than hidin' away in some home… with strangers…" he stopped, and paused, allowing his following words to be heard more clearly, "… do you really want that… here… with no-one…" He kept his voice hollow, forcing her to remember the isolation she'd felt since arriving with Brian the previous Friday.

"No…" her eyes were downcast, her voice dull.

"Then… come home… we'll all go home, as a family…" He paced across towards the warm fire, both gazing at it quietly.

The silence that passed between them was nowhere near as awkward as it had been. Sully warmed his hands, feeling the back of his neck unfamiliarly cool. He hadn't expected the almost unrecognizable sound of her small, lost voice;

"I'm scared…"

"I know…"

"What if… if…" again her face crumpled, as a multitude of insults barraged through her consciousness.

This time, he was standing too close to resist. Tentatively, he reached his left arm around her back, and, when she didn't object, stepped closer feeling her nose and chin press tightly into his shoulder.

"Ssh… know ya afraid of people… but ain't gonna be as bad as ya think…" He ran his hands along the fine strands of her shiny, long hair, feeling her muffled, tearful sobs wrack against his chest. "Michaela… Olive already knows… and you know what she's like. No-one's gonna say anythin' against ya, long as she's around… and there's ya own kids; Matthew knocked Benjamin Avery out the last time he opened his mouth… and, uh… he's been working on his punch since then…" Sully remembered the aggressive blows he'd taken during their fight in the barn over two weeks ago.

He held her in silence for several minutes, keeping his left arm wrapped around her back and his right hand on her shoulder. He could smell the lavender scent in her hair, as he felt her right hand grip his upper arm.

"Sully… where do we go from here?" she had to ask. She knew she did. _I can't bear not knowing… if we can't have the future we both planned… then I need to know now…_

He felt her fingers soften against the material of his jacket. Perhaps he'd confused her? Carefully, he let his arms drop from her back, and tried to think up the least threatening response he could. _The last thing she needs at the moment is to feel you're expecting more from her…_

"We're friends, Michaela… we'll always be friends…" he whispered, able to hear the awkwardness in his voice. He wanted to say he loved her, that he supported her, that he'd marry her right then and there if he believed for one moment it was what she wanted.

Michaela removed her hands from his arm, and slipped away from his shoulder, feeling empty. Her chest felt hollow, and her heart cold. It was true. _You knew you were only fooling yourself, Michaela. This is just too much. Maybe before he knew about the baby… maybe you could have expected him to still love you. But… it's too much, Michaela… it's just too much…_

She blinked slowly, and turned back towards the entrance hall. "I'll see you in the morning…" she kept her eyes straight ahead as she paced across the room, hearing only his husky voice behind her.

"Goodnight…" Sully frowned sadly, watching her leave. He thought he'd phrased his reply sensitively; carefully. He shook his head and turned back to the fire. _Why? Why has this happened? What are we being punished for? What are we supposed to learn?_


	80. Chapter 80

**Chapter 80**

Michaela arrived by her bedroom door, and, seeing it ajar, immediately suspected Brian to be the culprit. "Brian Cooper… you know you're not allowed to play in…" Michaela stopped mid sentence when she saw the head of long, blond hair.

"Just me, Dr. Mike…" she was lying diagonally across the bed, her head towards the window, engrossed in a new-found book. "Sorry…" she closed the book with a snap, "… Brian and _Penelope_" she emphasized the little girl's name very snootily, as Rebecca's daughter had when she'd talked with Colleen earlier that evening, "… are playing in her room… weren't nowhere else that was quiet…" she groaned, "people everywhere in this house…"

"It's fine… really… and I know… somehow, home didn't ever feel this cramped… even if, as Brian says, it's smaller than Penny's bedroom." Michaela smiled and sat on the edge of the bed with an uncomfortable sigh.

"Yeah… could read other places… outside, the meadow… the creek… no matter how many people there were… was always a way to be on your own if ya needed to be…" she trailed her fingers around the gold writing of the front of the dark green leather book.

"What are you reading?" Michaela indicated the book, genuinely interested.

"Little Women… found it downstairs…" Colleen pulled herself into a sitting position and slid to the edge of the bed, the opposite side form Michaela.

"You don't have to go, Colleen… stay and read?" Michaela gestured to the middle of the bed where the girl had been lying.

"Rather see what Matthew's doing…" she deliberately avoided looking at Michaela, as she got up and paced around the end of the bed.

"Colleen… I know you're angry with me… please, talk to me…" Michaela reached to grasp the girl's wrist as she crossed the room towards the door, however, Colleen managed to pull it away just in time.

"Talking never does any good… tried that before. You'll just do what you like, doesn't matter what I think," She opened the door, hesitating just long enough to catch Michaela's reply.

"I'm sorry, Colleen…" Michaela sighed, feeling the young girl's anger all the way across the room.

"Save it, Dr. Mike. Save it for the people you've actually hurt; Brian… Sully… Tell your baby you're sorry once you've finally killed it. Don't bother with me." Colleen shut the door loudly behind her, and stomped noisily away towards the stairs.

Michaela heard the girl's footsteps fade, as if in slow motion. She was sick of the guilt. She knew she'd behaved dreadfully to Colleen these past few months; forced her to deceive her family and friends, expected her to undertake responsibilities she was too young to understand.

Michaela knew Colleen's anger was only a response to fear. From their conversation weeks ago on the bridge, Michaela knew she disapproved of her planned actions. She could only imagine how furious the girl had been when she'd not only left the next day, but taken Brian as well.

As hurt as she felt by Colleen's harsh words, Michaela couldn't blame her for them. Her strict morality was a great asset. It made Colleen fight for the things she believed in; made her an individual. Michaela knew it was this character and determination that would get her through medical school… was that ever going to happen now?

_Please… please don't let her abandon her dream, just because she's angry with me…_

Michaela was pulled from her thoughts, by a gentle rocking sensation across the front of her stomach. After the traumatic events of the day, there was something… almost comforting in the feeling having returned. It wasn't that she allowed herself to dwell on the concept of a 'baby', more that she was content to reassure herself that 'nothing has changed'. She glanced outside to the almost pitch-black sky. It was too early to go to sleep. But she was tired. Sliding further up the bed, Michaela rolled onto her right side, and allowed herself several moments of rest. Her eyes dropped closed every now and then, until she spotted her medical bag, on the floor by the dressing table. She'd not seen it in days. For a moment, she realized she'd actually forgotten about it and the thought bothered her.

Pushing herself up from the bed, Michaela fetched the bag and brought it back next to her. Opening it, she rummaged through the contents; nothing more than a pair of tweezers, two bandages, and her stethoscope. She ran the tips of her fingers along the metal earpieces, and down the tubing to the bell.

She felt professional pride wash over her, like heat from a warm fire on a cold night. She still had that. Didn't she?

Michaela tried to recall the distorted conversations she'd had with William at the hospital the previous week. Most of it was a blur. He would have told her if she'd had her license revoked? She frowned, knowing she probably needed to clear some of those vague details up, if she was to be returning to Colorado Springs.

Home.

Was she really going back? This was not how she'd planned the events to take place.

_Over thirty years of my life has been here… I don't know if I'm ready to leave again… I don't know if it's right…_

Lost in her thoughts, Michaela had the stethoscope in her ears, before she realized it; the bell held loosely in her right hand. She looked down at the black end, pressing it quickly to her chest, finding her own heartbeat effortlessly. Perfect, at approximately seventy beats per minute, Michaela estimated.

She let the bell drop from her chest, as she went to pull the instrument from her ears. As she did, she glanced down. She was curious, albeit in a detached way.

_Michaela… it's just double your own… just a bit faster… you've heard many of them before… _

She nodded several times, allowing the wisdom in her rationalization to halt her impulsivity. Michaela opened her medical bag again, and was about to drop the stethoscope in, when she felt a stronger fluttering movement, this time to the right of her lower abdomen.

_It's almost like it's talking to me… how does it know when I'm thinking about it… Will you just listen to yourself! You're a doctor… you know that's absolutely ridiculous._

She cleared her throat and stuffed the instrument back into the black leather bag very quickly.

_There, gone… I know… just… a coincidence…_

As she dropped the medical bag to the floor beside her, Michaela felt the gentle movement return again. This time, she allowed her right hand to seek out the spot. She couldn't feel anything; just the firmness of her rounded stomach. She settled herself back comfortably against the array of large pillows behind her, moving the tips of her fingers slowly over the material of her skirt. She became distracted in her thoughts, her hand resting comfortably against her stomach.

_Friends… _she nodded, hearing his awkward tone. "_Friends…" _she repeated to herself. _I can live with that… So why did it hurt? Why did it feel… empty… Well, what do you expect of him, Michaela? Honestly, what were you expecting? Him to gaze deep into your eyes, move his head closer, and claim your lips, as he had…_

She clenched her jaw and forced herself to stop the thought. _He hasn't looked at me like that once since…_

She swallowed and held the edge of her lower lip between her teeth. She'd woken up, called for him... he was there… She had felt his fingers glide over the tops of her feet, despite the pain, it had been soothing. She'd seen the fire in his eyes, a fire of passion which grew stronger the moment she had uttered that one single word. The relief she had seen fill his soul, poured over into the air between them. She tasted the honey on the edge of her lower lip, and then felt its refreshing sweetness seep throughout her mouth. She'd kept her eyes locked with his, despite the tears that blurred her vision. They were tears of gratitude; love. The strength of their gaze intensified, and he moved closer… and closer towards her. She remembered the power, the emotion, as he claimed her lips. She pressed her hand against his chest, dropping her eyes closed as he moved his mouth against hers, each knowing they were communicating need and feeling that were beyond words alone. As he pulled away, she drew closer against him, time standing still as she felt her bare arms against his broad chest.

The moment could have lasted forever.

_Friends… _Michaela reminded herself.

She was lost in her harrowed thoughts, her hand firmly against her stomach and did not hear the sound of the knock at the door, until it opened slightly.

Michaela inhaled, surprised, and turned her head towards the door, pulling her hand immediately from her stomach, and dropping it to her side.

"Sorry… I didn't mean to startle you…" Rebecca smiled warmly, entering the room, and closing the door behind her.

"No… it's fine…" Michaela moved herself into a more upright position, tucking several strands of hair behind each ear nervously.

"Michaela… I… wanted to check with you… about the sleeping arrangements… if you don't want Brian here, I can ask Matthew to share with Edmund Jr. and Brian can stay with Sully?" Rebecca had felt uncomfortable with having just assumed Michaela would agree.

"Becca, it's fine…" She chuckled lightly, "I'm very used to that boy…"

"Oh?" Rebecca crossed the room and closed the curtains, as it was considerably dark outside.

"Brian's been having terrible nightmares, for months now… at first I used to just wake up and find him there… I tried to dissuade him, and then he would just sleep on the floor with a blanket… so I… gave up…" She shook her head as Rebecca made herself comfortable on the edge of the bed.

"Several years ago, Penny used to try… but Edmund refused; said it was not appropriate and merely ordered the child back to her room." Rebecca sighed, regretting the decision.

"I tried to talk to him… and for awhile, he did improve… but then, last night… he woke me up again…" Michaela rolled her eyes, "but fell back to sleep right away… He'll grow out of it…" she concluded.

"Michaela, please, if it is none of my business, do say, but… you weren't expecting Sully to arrive, were you?" Rebecca smoothed out her full skirt slowly.

"No…"

"And you hadn't told him about the pregnancy, had you?" She confirmed, Michaela shaking her head lightly. "Why not?" her words were incredibly soft, and spaced out. There was no agenda behind her question; it was honest, and free of criticism.

"Rebecca… even after everything that has happened… we were still… close… we'd been courting, and… before this… I… I thought we would… we hadn't really discussed it, but… I had expected we'd get married in some time… then… it was silly… there was another woman… and… it wasn't anything, I just overreacted, because I was scared of losing him and of looking foolish… and so we stopped courting… and weren't… close … until… he rescued me; the first time…" Michaela alternated her gaze between her sister's open face, and the intricate pattern of her blouse.

"First time?" she frowned, sensing the conversation was moving into delicate territory.

Michaela held her eyes closed for a pained moment, forcing herself to remember the events freshly in her mind. "They took me on the Friday… on the Sunday night, Sully found me, and we managed to escape. We swam, climbed…" her voice became more emotional, "crawled our way along rivers, mountains… bushes… I remember it was just beginning to become light when we found the cave… my hands… my feet were bleeding… and I was _so_ tired… I'd not slept more than an hour here and there since… and even that was only out of pure exhaustion…" Michaela crossed her arms awkwardly around her larger chest, blinking several times before continuing. "I don't remember falling asleep that morning… I just remember the site of the cave… and the dawn… When I woke up, Sully was there…" her voice increased in pitch slightly, "We'd been drenched in the creeks, and were only in our undergarments whilst our clothes dried…" Michaela glanced up, recognizing the expected glare of shock and unintentional disapproval that painted her sister's face. "Rebecca… it's different…" she shook her head slowly, and adjusted herself further towards the middle of the bed. "And so… Sully… cleaned the blood from my feet… and presented me with some food…" she smiled, remembering the honey on her lips. "He… he asked me…" she swallowed and forced the words from her throat, "if they'd hurt me…" she looked away, feeling the lump form deep in her throat, "…and I could say… 'No'… '_No'_…" Michaela repeated more strongly, her chin trembling involuntarily.

"Michaela?" Rebecca frowned, suddenly not sure where this was actually leading.

She dropped her eyes closed, blinking the tears away, and swallowing the lump in her throat. Slowly letting her eyelids open, Michaela looked back up at her sister. "The next morning, just before dawn, we started back to town… we knew we were being followed… it was my fault… my feet were so sore… and I was tired… but Sully wouldn't go on without me… We started up another mountain, when we heard the war cries, and gun fire…" she shook her head, able to _hear_ the sounds, and feel the small stones rip at the raw flesh of her feet, "… I don't know what we thought we'd be able to do… there were at least five or six dog soldiers… against the two of us… and they had the guns… the _knives_…" Michaela exhaled, and pushed herself on. "They caught up with us on the edge of the cliff… Sully… he fought… and for a moment…" her voice was thin, and timid sounding, "… but… then he was falling… and… and I couldn't make sense of it… I… it was moving in slow motion… it wasn't _real._ It couldn't be real… He landed on the rocks below… he couldn't have survived, how could anyone… and I couldn't even go to check on him…" she pulled her arms protectively back across her chest, feeling the dog solder's grip on his skin. She felt ill.

"Michaela, you don't have to…" Rebecca saw the emotional trauma in her sister's body language, and kept her voice low.

"Rebecca… were you scared?" Michaela's voice was hollow and seemed to come from nowhere.

"Was I scared?" she frowned, trying to understand the question.

"When you were married… when you had to…" Michaela moved her right hand slightly, to imply her very subtle meaning.

Rebecca nodded quickly, understanding her sister's awkward phrasing, needing a moment to consider her response. "I wasn't… scared." She began, "I was… nervous," Rebecca thought it strange that Michaela was attempting to compare a violent, traumatic assault to a consensual wifely duty of love.

"So was I… I… mean, before…" Michaela remembered the apprehension she'd felt once her relationships with Sully began to develop, and the thought of marriage crossed her mind. "I… I just… I wanted to know if… it was normal… or… if there was just something… wrong with me…" she shrugged and looked away; her eyes empty.

"Oh, Michaela… it's perfectly normal… it's the biggest secret, aside from monthlies… it's not until _after_ you're married, and other women smile sideways at you, that you realize, there's not a decent girl who walked done that aisle more worried about her wedding dress than her honeymoon…"

"Becca… why didn't we talk about this before?"

"Michaela you screwed your nose up at the mere _mention_ of marriage… I remember just after I gave birth to Edmund Jr., I was beaming from ear to ear, showing him around the family… you had just started medical school, and proceeded to lecture me very proudly, on the stages of labor and delivery, never for one moment tolerating your sisters' ooaas and ahhhs over the baby boy. You _never_ wanted something as common as a husband and family…" Rebecca's eyes glimmered, reaching across to pat Michaela's hand teasingly.

"Was I really that… boring?" Michaela cringed.

"Yes…" they both giggled lightly. Rebecca took a breath and returned to the previous topic. "I imagine Mother's… _attitudes_… never helped… that is, if she was still using the 'grit your teeth and bear it' scare tactic by the time you received the necessary 'motherly talk'."

"I… ah… don't think I ever even _received_ that talk, Becca… Marjorie was sat down just after she started her monthlies, and given the routine lecture. She then proceeded to take an evil delight in embellishing the less savory details to me later that night, both hidden under a quilt in the dark. From then on, I was just too plain scared to _look_ at a boy the wrong way… so Mother had _absolutely_ nothing to be worried about…" Rebecca watched the smile drop quickly from her sister's face, "… ironically… reality didn't end up being all that different from the horror stories Marjorie had haunted me with since I was nine…" Michaela trailed off, her voice thinning, and by the end, was speaking in a whispered tone.

"Michaela, I'm sorry…" Rebecca looked over her younger sister's pale complexion, and lifeless eyes. She wanted to hug her, but from the frozen expression on her face, Michaela looked as if any physical contact might shatter her to pieces.

Rebecca waited in patient silence, as she saw the dark shadow pass over and gradually fade from her sister's face, knowing exactly what she was reliving. She remained quiet, knowing that if Michaela wanted to, she would speak.

After several minutes of studying the delicately hand-sewn patchwork quilt, Rebecca heard her sister's childlike voice fill the room.

"Becca… in the end… was it as bad as Mother made it seem?" Michaela glanced down at her hands laid flat against her skirt.

Rebecca looked up slowly, a reassuring smile crossing her face, "No… Michaela… we all have individual experiences… but I can promise you; being with someone out of _love_, would never compare to _fear_…" Rebecca interlocked her fingers with her sister's, both keeping their eyes downcast.

"Before I left… Sully and I… I thought that maybe… possibly… with time… we'd be as close as we'd planned… even though he never expected me to… feel the same…" Michaela spoke thoughtfully; wishfully.

"And now?" Rebecca pressed.

"Now that… he knows…" she diverted her eyes towards her stomach, "… he says we can be friends…" Her voice cracked slightly on that final word.

"Are you sure?" Rebecca's disbelief was obvious.

"Of course I'm sure… tonight, he said so… He, wants me to go home… and I asked… about our future… and he said we would be _friends…"_ Michaela wiped the corners of her eyes automatically.

Rebecca moved her head, shifting her eyes in search of an answer, "Perhaps… he doesn't want you to feel pressured… perhaps he is concerned you'll worry that because of the baby… you'll need some more time… to feel comfortable," Rebecca stopped, as Michaela drew an audible breath, and retorted desperately:

"But that's just _it!_ What if, because of it… he can't stand to look at me… he can't stand the thought of touching me… I mean, I couldn't believe he still had feelings for me at all… that's more than any man ever would have _here_… and maybe, this was just the final straw… it was too much…" Michaela pulled her hand sharply away from her sister's, allowing diminished, repressed feelings of disgust and contamination to rise to the forefront of her consciousness.

Rebecca drew her arm back towards her lap, seeing the emotion behind her sister's violent action. She drew a calming breath; then another as she thought. "Well, then… what about William? Why, you said only last night… that he had feelings for you… so you know it's not… too much to ask…"

"Yes… he did… but," she hesitated, "maybe I was wrong… maybe I'm…" she felt the heat build in her cheeks, "maybe I'm seeing everything… _wrong_," A single tear trailed down from her right eye. She dabbed at it with her hand. "Look at me, I can't stop crying… either that or I just get so angry… I… I feel as though nothing is making sense… like the world has just grown into this unfamiliar milieu of faces… and voices…" she dropped her right hand back to the hard mattress. "And I don't belong in it anymore… I make everyone so awkward… that they don't want to be around me… and I can't stand being around them…" she sighed miserably, "… but being on my own is worse…"

Rebecca moved quickly to her sister's side, not thinking twice about encircling her back with her arms, and embracing her tightly. "Michaela, it's all right. You expect too much of yourself, and if people seem awkward, it's only because they don't know _how_ to help… not because they don't _want_ to." Rebecca relaxed into the hug, when she felt Michaela soften against her. "And I know you feel so out of control… that's normal, I was the same with both my children…" Rebecca felt her sister's arms around her back, and moved her hands to stroke Michaela's hair. "Tell people how you're feeling... if you're angry… if you're upset… it will make them less awkward… The children, Sully; tell them what you want, what you expect of them… if you need to be on your own for a time, they'll understand…" Rebecca smiled, pulling back to meet eyes with her sister, "You forget… I know you a lot better than they do… you, are a conundrum, Michaela Quinn… " she chuckled affectionately, "You never were comfortable talking about your feelings… you'd fall over, skin your knee… but you'd never cry. Even when Father had to stitch your forehead when you were playing with Carlton, and ran into the tree… blood gushing everywhere… you still wanted to keep right on playing." Rebecca saw her sister's eyes glaze over as she relived the childhood memory. "That strength, that… resilience, is power, Michaela… it allows you to survive… but somewhere… deep inside… the hurt is always there… and you need to find the people in your life you can trust… you need to let that pain out…" Rebecca kept her eyes fixed intently on her sister's as she waited for some degree of reaction. Michaela didn't look away, didn't even blink.

Rebecca moved her arms from her sister's back, until her hands clasped each of her shoulders softly. "Mike doesn't have to be strong, all the time…" Rebecca saw her sister's face break at the use of her once-treasured nickname. The torture and grief that began with nothing more than a blink, was the only glimpse Rebecca had had into her sister's torment.

"It's all right…" she whispered, clutching the back of her sister's head and drawing her to her shoulder once again. Rebecca felt Michaela's hands seek her back, her fingers digging desperately into the fabric of her dress. Rebecca knew better than to say anything further, as her sister's howling sobs pierced through the silence of the room.

"He… hurt me, Becca…" the tears flowed, drop after drop from her eyes, running along her upper lip and seeping into her mouth.

"I know…" she validated, feeling the fine strands of Michaela's hair under her fingers.

"… and… he didn't care…" the tears dropped from the edge of her jaw line and landed hard against Rebecca's shoulder. "I… thought I would die… I tried to tell him… but… he… _didn't care_…" Michaela unconsciously dug her fingers into her sister's back with the same desperation she had her dug fingers into the palms of her bound hands.

Rebecca didn't want to utter a sound, didn't want to remind Michaela she was actually speaking aloud. She had her own questions, but she quickly reminded herself, they were selfish, and raw facts were insignificant in comparison to the suffering her sister was experiencing.

"… to know that you don't matter… to know that who I was… meant nothing… that I was another human being, and not just…" she swallowed a thick clump of mucus in her throat, "… I would have died… I kept waking up… and there was more blood… more… and more… and I couldn't make it stop… I couldn't think… all I could do was _feel_. Pain. Cold. Shame. I could see faces… the children… and Sully… and Father… But they were dead… the children were the only ones alive… I didn't want to leave them… I wasn't thinking about living for the next year… I was thinking about that next breath. I was just trying to stay alive for that next minute, that next hour… I never thought about _now_…" she slowly released the force her fingers were exerting on her sister's back.

Rebecca still didn't dare to move her hands, but did speak softly, "Michaela… who found you?"

She blinked several times, actually remembering the faces as they entered the small space across from her. "Horace… and… and Jake… I remember seeing them… I remember trying to get dressed…" fresh tears glistened in her eyes, "I didn't want them to know… I… I'd…" she drew a breath and continued, "I couldn't walk, Jake carried me outside… but then I don't remember. Only voices, and I was back at the Clinic… back in town… and then… faces; Brian, Colleen, Dorothy… and then nothing until the next morning…" The room fell again into silence, whilst Michaela caught her breath.

Rebecca carefully detached her fingers from her sister's hair, "I love you, Michaela…" she leant forwards to tenderly kiss her sister's forehead, their eyes meeting for the first time as Rebecca drew her head away.

"You wanted to know what I feel… most of the time, painfully alone… That I can't expect anyone to understand such fear… William didn't understand yesterday; when I said I wasn't afraid to die… and neither did I until this happened… it goes against everything we're taught… everything we teach our children… that no-one has the right to hurt another person, that life is fair, that God doesn't give us more than we can handle… and… none of it is true, Becca…" Michaela brought her arms back to rest in her lap, the two sisters less than a foot apart. "We just say it to make ourselves feel safe… maybe that's as it should be… maybe we shouldn't ever prepare ourselves for our own mortality."

Rebecca ran her hands along her sister's arms as she too, rested them in her own lap. "Michaela, have you told Sully any of this?"

"I… parts…"

"What about the entire experience… from when he fell to when they brought you home," Rebecca paused, suddenly realizing there was a gap in the events. "Michaela, I don't understand, if you thought Sully was dead… how come he isn't?"

"The townsmen… apparently went out searching for him after they found me… they brought him back the next night… they weren't going to tell me but… he would have died… that I know for certain." Her voice had adopted a cold professionalism.

"You operated on him?" Rebecca muttered in disbelief.

Michaela looked away, hearing the crunch of the scalpel against his skull as if it were that very moment, "Yes…"

"Michaela… you need to tell him… he needs to understand…" Rebecca reaffirmed.

"But, what if he can't? What if it hurts him too much?"

"Michaela… he's hurting every time you turn away from him; every time he sees you cry… we all are… You need to trust him…" she watched her sister drop her head slightly, expecting further protest. None came.


	81. Chapter 81

**Chapter 81**

"You don't suppose you're a little young to be thinking about marriage?" Edmund Jr. turned a page in his mathematics textbook. The young man had been attempting to finish his homework, when his slightly older cousin had entered the room.

"Nope…" Matthew roamed aimlessly around the large library, occasionally reaching for an expensive-looking book and flicking through it.

"Well, _Father_ says a young man should not even consider marriage until he's been working and supporting himself for at least two years." The boy returned his concentration to the equation in front of him.

"Well… been ranchin' for… actually, would be comin' up two years… was doin' lots a odd jobs for a couple a years before that… and even before my Ma died, had to help support the family…" Matthew reflected, continuing to glance at various books.

"Up to you then… guess…" Edmund shrugged, scribbling down some calculations.

"What about you, though? Have you got a…" he froze, what was the word they used here? "A… er… a… lady friend…" Matthew cleared his throat awkwardly. Maybe that wasn't even something young people _talked_ about here.

"Ah… no…" Edmund dismissed with a weak chuckle of contempt. "I graduate this year, and then am applying for law school… I haven't time for… _girls_…" He mocked superiorly.

"Oh…" Matthew nodded, picking up very quickly on the young man's coldness. "I… see… best, ah, leave you to it…" He pushed the heavy book back onto shelf, and strode across the room, pacing up the hallway, spotting Sully in the sitting room.

"Sully?" Matthew entered the room, pulling the older man from his thoughts.

"Hmm?" He turned around from the fire.

"Mind if I…?" He gestured to the large armchair behind him.

"Course not…" Sully smiled, seeing the Bostonian awkwardness that the young man had quickly acquired.

"Spoken to Dr. Mike?" he whispered, after a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Uh-huh…" Sully muttered, folding his arms as he began pacing across the room.

"Yeah… ah… so did I…" Matthew pushed his hands into his pockets, wanting to talk to Sully, but not sure if it would be breaking confidence.

"Ya did?" Sully spoke slowly.

"She thinks you don't love her… that you just feel sorry for her… ain't the way it is, is it?" Matthew removed his hands from his pockets, twiddling his fingers nervously.

Sully stopped pacing, and frowned, the end of the conversation he'd had with Michaela only half an hour before, niggling at him. "Course it ain't…"

"Tried to tell her that… says she don't want ya bein' with her just out a pity…" Matthew thought over the words that had passed whilst watching the sunset that evening.

"Matthew, I would never insult her like that… I would never be that… dishonest…" He shook his head and let out a tired sigh. "Ain't stopped lovin' her, either… Well, would you stop lovin' Ingrid?" He turned the question quickly back on him.

Matthew grew very hesitant, his voice awkward, "she… ah… asked me that. Asked me if the same thing had a happened to Ingrid… if I woulda felt the same…" He rose emotionally to his feet, "I stuffed up, Sully… I… got all… uncomfortable… well, it _was_ uncomfortable… but… she saw that… I… without realizing it, gave her the answer she expected. It was _Ingrid, _for heaven's sake… don't wanna even…" He scrunched up his face in disgust and turned away.

"Yeah… I know… but ya know what… if it really was… ya wouldn't feel like that… you wouldn't feel that… repulsion… That's only there to cover the fear at the thought…" Sully raised his hands out in front of him, using them to strengthen his words.

"Well, all I succeeded in doin' was confirming what she already thought. You gotta tell her yourself, Sully… I dunno… maybe… know it's not my place or nothin', but… can't ya ask her to marry ya? Were gonna be gettin' married anyway… why not…?" Matthew clenched his jaw, almost feeling as if he were begging. If it would save just one raised eyebrow… one joke… one ounce of pain, then, wasn't it worth it?

"Coz it ain't the right time…" He paused, allowing the thought to linger, "If we got married now, just be… to look like we cared what people thought, just be about _other_ people…" Sully sat down on the edge of the couch, and brought his right arm to the young man's shoulder.

"Don't ya think it'd make it easier on Ma? I mean… least with a weddin' ring on her finger… ain't gonna…" Matthew shrugged at the suggestion.

"Matthew, if, for a moment, I thought it was the right thing to do… I'd ask her. I'd marry her this _minute… _And… I dunno… maybe in a few months… maybe in a year then, it will be… but she's gotta get herself back first… can't be changin' things this soon. If she's gonna marry me, want it to be because she loves me, because she sees hope in the future we can have together. Not because she's afraid."

"But… you'll make sure she knows you still love her… like before…" Matthew turned his head, locking eyes with Sully.

"I'll try… I don't want her to… worry about what I want… Last thing I want to end up happenin' is her marryin' me just because she thinks she has to. Just because she thinks it's what _I_ want. Has to be what _she_ wants…" He gripped Matthew's shoulder in a paternal manner.

"Just make sure she knows…" Matthew kept his voice low, yet very strong.

"I will… promise ya…"

Matthew nodded, and dragged himself to his feet. "Gonna head to bed…"

"Yeah, might as well join ya…" Sully headed across the room behind him, both suddenly remembering the sleeping arrangements.

"Ah… Sully?" Matthew bit his lip nervously. "Ya don't… ah… snore, do ya? Out in the barn, only gotta worry about the horses… and horses don't snore…"

Sully rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No, I don't snore. Least never been told I do… Anyway, I can sleep just fine on the floor, so… won't be disturbin' ya…"

"Right…" Matthew nodded, more settled by that plan.

**X.O.X**

**Wednesday, 13****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Loren threw the covers back furiously, hearing the incessant pounding on the door downstairs.

"Someone better be dyin', or I'm gettin' my gun…" He threatened, the night air having chilled the floor under his bare feet. Stumbling sleepily down the stairs, he noticed Dorothy had had the good sense to at least pretend to have not heard the commotion.

He crossed the floor of the general store, and pulled the wooden door open, not sure who he would find on the other side.

"Jake?" he announced gruffly, the barber taking a drunken step closer towards him. Loren was able to smell the remnants of liquor immediately.

"Where… where is she?" Jake slurred, still holding the whiskey bottle in his right hand. He was clad in his long johns, with only a thin dressing gown around him. His boots were unlaced and shoved on his bare feet.

"Jake, you're drunk… go home…" Loren groused, his hair crushed from sleeping and the night air making him colder by the second.

"No… no… we gotta get her… gotta… where?" Jake rubbed his red eyes, Loren seeing the genuine panic in his face.

"What are you talkin' about?" The old man demanded, ushering Jake just inside the door, so that he could close it.

"Doctor… Dr. Mike…" He stuttered, squinting his eyes slightly, trying to establish reality from dream.

"She ain't here, Jake… you know she ain't…" Loren quickly took the whiskey bottle from his right hand, surprised when Jake posed no resistance.

"I… I… know… we gotta go get her…" He rushed on, relieved, assuming that Loren had understood his panic.

"No we don't… she's all right… Sully's gone to bring her back…" He placed the whiskey bottle out of sight behind the counter.

"No… no… he ain't gonna find her… he's gonna fall… fall… over the cliff… We gotta… we gotta get her Loren…" Jake grabbed the man's arm, Loren looking down at Jake's shaking hands.

"No, Jake… Dr. Mike's in Boston… remember…?" Loren carefully pried Jake's strong, alcohol-aided grasp from his arm.

"Boston?" Jake repeated in disbelief, quickly correcting the store owner, "No… no… the injuns got her… quick, we gotta go… get her back… before… 'fore somethin' bad happens…" Jake clutched quickly again for Loren, the desperation even more evident in his eyes.

"Jake… you're drunk… or you're dreamin'… or both… Listen… that's all over now… was months ago… Dr. Mike and Brian have gone to Boston. Sully and the children gone after her…" Loren frowned, leaning slightly closer, seeing the sheer, unwavering terror in his friend's eyes.

"You… you promise? Promise she's safe?" His breathing was in short gasps, beads of sweat collected around his hairline.

"I…" Loren saw the distress in Jake's face. "I promise… everything's all right… nothin' we can do... listen… ah…" He looked around, sensing that Jake was probably dangerously intoxicated. "How 'bout you sleep… upstairs… can sleep it off in my bed… I'll sleep in the chair… wouldn't, ah… want ya gettin' sick…" He patted Jake on the back lightly, guiding him with necessary encouragement towards the bottom of the stairs.

"Up… up here?" Jake hiccupped, blinking several times to orientate himself.

"Yeah… up ya go… go on…" Loren pushed him slightly forcefully up the stairs, and settled him in for what he imagined would be a disturbed night.

**X.O.X**

"Morning, Mr. Su…" Rebecca quickly corrected herself, "Sully…"

"Mornin' Ma'am…" He replied, glancing around the breakfast table. "Am I late?" He asked apologetically as his took a seat, seeing the small amount of food on everyone's plates.

"No matter…" Rebecca smiled genuinely, "My husband had an early meeting, and so it's just the children…" She indicated Brian, Penelope, Edmund Jr., Matthew, and Colleen who were in various stages of buttering toast or woofing down pancakes.

"Michaela?" Sully asked, as Ellen smiled politely and poured him a fresh glass of orange juice.

"She hasn't been down, yet…" Rebecca shrugged, sipping on her hot cup of tea.

"Oh…" Sully nodded, not worried, and took a polite mouthful of his drink.

"If she sleeps late, then, it's probably for the best… wouldn't want to disturb her." Rebecca placed the gold-edged china teacup back on its saucer.

"Ma ain't sleepin'…" Brian contested, as he delighted in drizzling honey thickly over the large pancake in the center of his plate.

Sully felt his stomach twist instinctively, and glared quickly from Rebecca to the young boy. "Where is she, Brian?" his tone was dark.

"I dunno… I woke up and she was dressed, she said to go back to sleep… and she left." He licked his lips and prepared to slice through the perfected pancake.

"Thought you said we were gonna _watch_ her…" Colleen muttered with disapproval from the end of the table.

"Now, there's really no need for alarm, surely?" Rebecca saw Matthew, Colleen and Sully exchanged very angry, concerned glares.

"Let's hope not…" Sully pushed the chair back and arrived quickly to his feet.

Matthew did likewise, and Colleen merely rolled her eyes.

"Ya comin', Colleen?" Matthew frowned at her disinterest.

"Nah… it's her drama… let her kill herself…" she sipped her tea elegantly, trying to appear as unemotional as possible.

Brian dropped the fork to his plate, his mouth gapping in disbelief.

"Colleen…" Matthew reprimanded, shaking his head. This had definitely gone too far. Matthew pushed his chair back under the table, as Rebecca realized the two men were actually panicking.

"Well, wait a moment… where on earth are you going?" Rebecca questioned, as they rose from their seats. Sully looked back at her, his eyes cold.

"The one place she'd be…" He moved quickly from the dining room towards the entrance foyer.

Rebecca shook her head, at a loss.

Matthew brushed her arm lightly, pausing momentarily. "William's,"

**X.O.X**

"I assure you, she is not here…" William explained for the third time, having been extremely rudely interrupted several minutes beforehand, by an out of breath Sully and Matthew.

"If you're lyin' to me… if I find out you so much as touched her…" Sully extended his hand, one finger pointing very deliberately at the doctor opposite him.

"Is that a threat?" William folded his arms, not in the least bit intimidated by Sully's low growl.

"You bet your life it is…" Sully felt Matthew's hand on his arm.

"Sully… calm down… ain't helpin'…" Matthew looked squarely at William, sensing the truth in his words. "Come on… ain't any use here…"

"Mr. Sully… I know you and I… never exactly saw eye to eye…" He gingerly ran his fingers over the sutures on his left temple.

"That is an understatement," Sully muttered, freeing his arm from Matthew's grasp.

"But… regardless of what you may think of me… you must believe that what I tell you is the truth. Michaela did come and see me this morning…" William saw the fire flash across Sully's eyes, "…and told me, she has changed her mind," he paused, clasping his hands in front of him. "… that she will be returning home, with you and the children. That she will be seeing the pregnancy through," he saw the relief mixed with disbelief in Sully's face.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, Matthew remaining cautiously by his side.

"On my oath…" William nodded sincerely, the emotional hurt visible in his eyes.

"Did she say where she was going?" Matthew interjected.

"No, I'm afraid not… I assumed home…" he narrowed his eyes, concerned.

"Well she ain't…" Sully quipped quickly.

"She left here well over an hour ago… I assure you, she's probably just… running an errand…" William watched the calmness start to appear on both the men's faces.

"Fine… all right… I… we were concerned…" Sully cleared his throat, and backed away towards the large black wooden door.

"Thank-you, Dr. Burke…" Matthew nodded politely, as the men quickly left.

"Now where? She could be anywhere…" Matthew dropped his hands loudly against his thighs.

"I know… I… guess we just have to go home…" Sully muttered, as if it almost physically pained him to have to say the words.

"William's right… you known women… she's probably just... shopping or something…" Matthew rationalized, the two beginning a far less hasty journey back to Rebecca's.

**X.O.X**

"I… I wanted to… come and see you… I didn't think I would…" Michaela pursed her lips awkwardly, realizing she was very much alone in the deserted vicinity.

"I've thought of you… many times… but that was not the same as actually being here… I don't know why I thought being here would make a difference… but it does…" She interlocked her fingers, feeling the chill in the morning air. Her skin tingled.

"I don't know why I feel as if I'm always trying to seek your approval… even now," Michaela smiled lightly to herself, and looked down at the bunch of white carnations several feet in front of her.

The wind picked up, and Michaela felt the edges of her long, once neatly brushed hair, blow around her shoulders. Pushing the loose strands back behind her ears, she dropped her eyes closed, deliberately withstanding the painfully cold rush of air around her ankles, hands and face.

"I miss you… more now… when I am having to question my life… you were always there before… when I didn't know what to do… when I doubted myself, when I struggled… you'd sit opposite me in the study… or… in the lounge by the warm fire… you'd stroke your beard… carefully slip off your glasses, and places them in your breast pocket. You'd clear your throat, 'What is it, Mike?', and… there would be this… silence… the length of which would indicate the size or complexity of the problem… but… you'd never rush that silence…" Michaela blinked, seeing the image in her mind fade, replaced by the lifelessness of her surroundings.

"The silence is too long now…" she lowered her eyes, watching intently as the wind tormented the delicate petals of the flowers near her feet.

"For months, I've wished I could speak with you… one last time… ask your advice… ask… if my choices disappointed you. But I can never know now…" Michaela paused and for several minutes allowed her eyes to roam around the deserted space of the cemetery.

Silence.

Silence one could hear.

Far away, she could just make out the movement of people. People who had come to the same place as her, perhaps for the same reason: to be with their loved ones. To tell them all the things they'd never had the courage to tell them whilst they were still alive. To ask if they had loved them.

"Why… are we always more afraid of what people think of us, than of what we think of ourselves?" she looked back to the cold, stone tablet several yards away.

"Why did I never have the courage to ask you… if you supported my relationship with David? Why was I more scared of your disapproval than of my own doubts? What if I've made the wrong choices… I wake up every day… and… ask myself what if I had married David sooner? What if he hadn't died? Why didn't I marry William last year, when I'd had the chance… why did I leave home in the first place? When I feel so angry at myself, I look for ways to blame myself… I think of how my life could be different, how I could be happy… how… things could be perfect again." She swallowed, her mouth dry from the strong wind.

"If you hadn't died, none of this would have happened… and then I hate myself all the more for blaming you…" Michaela drew a calming breath. "I always had complete control over my life… and you taught me that. You taught me to know what I wanted… to set goals; to always strive to a higher standard, and to never, _never_, sacrifice those ideals. To hold my head up high, regardless of the taunts and criticisms of others." Michaela reflected on her own words; having applied them to all of the decisions she had made: medical school; choice of suitor; leaving Boston; even struggling to establish a practice and a life, in Colorado.

Time remained frozen. There was no sound, no movement. Michaela stayed perfectly still, merely moving her eyes to take in the utter stillness around her.

"I wish I'd been able to ask your advice one more time… I like to think it would be as I have dreamed… I can't imagine you disapproving. After all, you never scolded me for saving Victus," She smiled at the memory.

The wind dropped suddenly. Michaela felt her tangled hair settle down her back.

"You appalled violence… when it was based on hatred or selfishness." Michaela moved her hands down again her stomach, almost reassured by the firmness of her skin under her clothing. "And I knew… if I killed my own child… it would be based on selfishness. The only reason I was considering such action, was because I so loathed what this baby represented. It wasn't until I realized this, that I remembered violence based on anger and hatred is not what you believed in. Allowing my own selfishness to control this child's fate, is no better than the circumstances under which it was created." She glided her right hand across her stomach, however, her nervousness wasn't listening to the honesty in her voice.

"I… hope I'm doing the right thing…" the tears formed immediately in her eyes at her final thought, "… I hope you would have been able to love your grandchild if you were alive…" she let the tears trickle unabated down her cheeks. "… because I'm terrified that I won't…"

She breathed slowly, as the tears stopped and her eyes dried.

"I love you, Father… I just wanted to say goodbye…" she moved the flowers closer to the headstone, and leaned forwards to run her fingers along the gold-etched writing.

**Josef Michael Quinn**

_1795 – 1867_

Loving husband of Elizabeth; beloved father to Rebecca, Maureen, Claudette, Marjorie, and Michaela.

Grandfather to James, Edmund, Emmaline, Thomas, Beth, Harrison, Penelope, Millicent, and Charles.

_A goal setter;__ an achiever, yet a gentle__,__ loving and compassionate, husband, __F__ather, and __D__octor._

Michaela tucked her arms back under the olive cape, and, respectfully blessing herself, began the slow walk back to the front gates. As she felt the wind strike up again, blowing her hair around more than it had before, she glanced around at the numerous grave sites; all somebody's loved one. A mother, father, brother, sister, son, or daughter. All these gray stones represented a person's life; their successes and failings; and not just one life, but the entire web of people that had known and loved them. Family.

**X.O.X**

Sully and Matthew arrived home, slightly calmer, although no more enlightened as to Michaela's whereabouts.

"Well, where else would she go?" Sully ran his right hand through his hair, looking from Matthew back to Rebecca.

"Who knows… a tall building… a bridge…" Colleen placed her hands delicately under her chin against the banister, the cynicism dripping from her voice.

"Stop it!" Matthew and Sully turned to her in unison. Brian looked up from beside Matthew with a frown of misunderstanding.

The room fell silent as the tension lingered in the air. Everyone turned at the sound of movement behind them.

"It's only been a few hours… perhaps we're… overreacting?" Rebecca came in from the sitting room, suggesting gently.

"Reckon she's right, Sully. After all, Ma could be anywhere," Matthew agreed, picking up Brian with a soothing smile.

Colleen remained on the last step, her chin resting against the smooth, polished wood of the banister, disinterest slowly melting into mild guilt.

"That's what worries me…" Sully muttered, beginning to cross and uncross his arms over his chest, as he paced from the stairs to the front door and back again.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "What I _meant_ was, she could be… at Grandma's, at one of her sister's, out shopping… ain't any point gettin' all worked," he turned back towards the front door as everyone heard the handle turn.

The expectant silence, as five people held their breaths, collapsed into sighs of relief, as Michaela slipped quietly through the doorway.

Michaela looked up, and frowned when she saw the intense worry on the two older children's faces. She stopped moving completely when she saw the utter darkness on Sully's.

"Ma!" Brian exclaimed, as Matthew squeezed him tighter, the young man feeling a cool relief wash over him.

"What…?" she mumbled. She was cold and both physically and emotionally drained. Her hair tangled by the wind, the small wisps of her fringe around her forehead were messy and frizzed.

"Michaela, are you all right? Where… where have ya been?" Sully found his voice, somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He walked across the foyer almost to her side, when he noticed how disheveled she looked.

"I'm… fine…" she swallowed, and moved towards the stairs, wanting to simply curl up under a warm blanket for the next hour or so.

"Wait up… where on earth have you been? Brian said you left before breakfast…" Sully caught her arm, and stood between her at the bottom of the stairs.

Rebecca and Colleen exchanged glances, seeing the determination in both the adults' eyes. Matthew carefully slipped Brian back to the floor, resting both his hands on the child's shoulders to keep him still and quiet.

"Nowhere," she sighed, and took another step away from him, not expecting him to pose any restriction. Her feet hurt and the amount of attention she was receiving was bothering her.

"What… do you mean, 'nowhere'… we've all been worried…" Sully gripped her arm more firmly, struggling to maintain eye contact with her.

"Well, there was no need. Now please, excuse me…" Again, Michaela attempted to detach from his grasp.

"So, you don't care? Michaela… you could have been dead for all I knew… and you don't," He stopped abruptly, seeing the anger in her eyes.

"You don't have to worry about me… I never asked you to. And you're not my keeper." She didn't know why she found his 'caring' so… controlling. _He doesn't trust me._

"At least tell me where ya were?" He let his hand drop from her arm.

"It's none of your business… I'll see you after lunch…" She snapped back sharply.

The hard look faded from Michaela's face, when she saw the genuine concern in everyone else's eyes. Her jaw dropped a little, about to voice an obligatory apology, but thought better of it and began the arduous task of ascending the staircase quickly. Although, Michaela being Michaela, ensured it appeared effortless.

The small gathering remained perfectly silent, until Michaela had completely disappeared from view, and only then did Matthew release Brian from his grasp.

"Why ya gotta be so hard on her? She's right… she ain't answerable to us…" Matthew watched the small boy clutch nervously to his sister's side.

"Yeah… you're right… just… when I get scared for her… turns into anger… I dunno… always seems to come out wrong…" Sully shook his head in frustration at his behavior.

"I'll wait an hour or so… then I'll go talk with her… if anyone has a chance of figuring out what is going on in her head, then…" Rebecca offered, "I'd rather she yell at me…" Rebecca finished, with a glimmer of a tease in her smile.

"Sully? Can I show ya Edmund's train set?" Brian crossed the room, his suggestion an attempt to calm the intense emotions of the adults around him.

"Maybe later, Brian. Just need some time by myself for a bit… Needa think…" Sully sighed and wearily retreated to the sitting room.

"Matthew?" Brian raised an eyebrow, turning to his big brother.

"Sorry little brother… Colleen and I gotta have a long overdue chat…" Matthew glared at his sister, who still kept a sour expression on her face. "Library." He stated, and headed towards the long corridor, Colleen stepping noisily along the hardwood floors behind him.

Brian sighed and hung his head, idly tracing his feet along the pattern in the rug under him. Rebecca smoothed his hair out for several moments with maternal sympathy, before making her way towards the kitchen to talk with Ellen.

**X.O.X**

"Right… I've had… we've all had, just about enough of this… this… _bitterness_ from you. You wanna tell me exactly what's going on?" Matthew demanded, once they had arrived into the empty library and he'd closed the door.

"What?" Colleen raised her eyebrows innocently, the moodiness in her voice still detectable.

"Don't give me that… you've been as snappy as hell ever since we got here yesterday and ain't said more than two words at a time to Ma. You've been downright mean to her. Then there's that comment over breakfast and just now… you had absolutely no right!" Matthew folded his arms, and leaned back against the closed door.

"So? She deserves it…" Colleen shrugged, looking across at the sea of books all around her.

"No, she doesn't. She don't deserve your nastiness. You heard Sully… she ain't goin' through with the abortion… she's havin' that baby… so you ain't got no reason to keep bein' so… vicious, so," Matthew pushed himself away from the door, as he searched for the right word, becoming frustrated by his sister's detraction.

"But not if it were up to her, she wouldn't be. Up to her, she'd a murdered that poor little baby yesterday… and right now it'd be like nothin' ever happened…" Colleen forced herself to concentrate on her older brother and not the tempting collection of literature, that had her almost

"That… ain't true, Colleen… She told me she'd had doubts… before yesterday. If ya wanna know the truth… she felt she had to do it… felt it'd be too hard for us… people talkin'…" His sister cut him off in a loud, harsh voice.

"That's ridiculous! She's just thinkin' about herself… tryin' to save herself the humiliation…" Colleen retorted sharply.

"Ain't true, Colleen. Think about it… if she _was_ really more concerned about herself than us… you think she woulda made it back home alive four months ago? Colleen… the only reason she _didn't_ let herself get killed out there, is because she loves _us_." Matthew saw his sister's eyes squint slightly, not knowing whether or not to completely trust his words.

"Now, I know how angry you are about what she planned to do… and… I know how angry you are that she took Brian, but, you need to accept, she's confused… she's scared. She's tryin' to do what is right for everyone, all at once… she needs you to be there… we all need to be together. Can't you just forgive her? After the sacrifice she's made for all of us… she deserves a second chance. She's done the right thing in the end, Colleen." Matthew watched his sister's face begin to mellow only slightly.

For a moment, he thought his words had been convincing, however, saw the fury return to his sister's eyes.

"But that still don't excuse what she's done…" Colleen fought back, "She ain't allowed to break the rules just coz it suits her. You've heard her… What about when the town got sick with the epidemic… she's all for justifyin' her actions then… 'I have to put my health after my patients'…' when it suits her… but when it comes right down to it… she's just usin' it as an excuse to do what she likes…" Colleen folded her arms tightly across her chest.

"You're bein' too hard on her… He violated her, Colleen… he forced himself on her… and now she's carryin' that child. How, as a woman can you not understand that pain… that distress… how can you forget that?" Matthew looked up at Colleen's outburst.

"All right! I ain't forgotten! You think I _ever _forget? I was there… with Miss Dorothy… and where were all you? Outside! Out sittin' around… where it was calm… and clean…" The young girl dropped her head, seeing her hands open in front of her. "You weren't in there, Matthew… you didn't have to see." She looked up at his, wringing her hands together violently. "… and… and I didn't know what to do! She coulda died… and… it woulda been my fault!" Colleen gasped, Matthew stepping forwards to lock his hands over her shoulders firmly.

"Colleen… _you_ saved Dr. Mike's life… everyone knows that… and… even if ya hadn't, it wouldn't have been your fault…" He kept his eyes locked on his sister's.

Gradually, the frustration and loathing in her eyes began to dissipate. Matthew remained silent, watching, as the corners of her mouth slowly dropped; the contempt fading from her expression. And, very slowly, her face darkened, into a blackness; a sadness.

"I… know…" her cheeks twitched, and her forehead wrinkled, her eyes beginning to cloud over with tears. "Was… just easier to hate her… If I told myself I hated her… I couldn't be scared for her." She pursed her lips together incredibly tightly, although not able to stop the tears roll one by one from her right eye, then her left.

"It's all right… we can't be strong all the time… this has been hard on all of us… in different ways…" Matthew swallowed, not sure if his upcoming revelation would reignite her anger. "Colleen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't realize how upset you'd been… I suppose… not actually bein' in there… I… didn't realize how real it would have been…. How frightenin'. I'm sorry I weren't around… too busy worryin' 'bout Ma… or Brian… I'm sorry you got neglected in everyone else's pain…" He moved his hands from her shoulders, to the sides of her arms.

"I just… can't stop seein' it… and as much as she tries to convince all of us… she's strong… I know she ain't… No-one's that strong…" Colleen shook her head as she wept into her brother's chest. "And every time I try to force myself to hate her for what she's done… I see her, lyin' there… I feel her cold hands in my own… the blood drained from her face… the _blood_…" She drew her hands desperately to her face, scrubbing her eyes, as if trying to erase the images from her mind.

Matthew had no words of comfort for his younger sister. So the pair remained in the center of the room, Matthew's arms locked around her back, as Colleen rocked against his chest, still rubbing her wet eyes and cheeks.


	82. Chapter 82

**Chapter 82**

Michaela pushed the bedroom door closed behind her and crossed the room, dropping her small blue purse onto the bed. She arrived in front of the dressing table, and noticed her blushed cheeks from the cold and her wind-swept hair.

With a tired sigh, she pulled the two combs from the back of her head, reached for the hairbrush and sat down, bringing the brush through the first mass of tangled hair.

In the time it took for Michaela to fix her hair back into a neat braid, the redness had faded from her cheeks. She placed the brush back on the corner of the dressing table, noticing the paleness of her face.

"It's no wonder he wanted to know where I'd been…" she shook her head and wearily stood from the table, the inviting mattress providing the much sought-after comfort she'd been seeking.

Michaela rolled over onto her left side, adjusting the pillow under her head, feeling her body sink further into the soft bedding. As she let her eyes drop closed, she could feel the tension in her lower back fade.

_Have I done the right thing? Perhaps I should have taken his advice… perhaps… that was my second chance, and I've lost it once again…_

She sighed, moving her right had to her abdomen in response to the familiar movement.

_But I couldn't… I just couldn't…_

She stroked the top of her stomach through the thin layers of her blouse and chemise.

_Maybe I was just weak… maybe I had to make that tough decision… but… it just felt wrong…_

Her eyes opened slowly, watching the wind move the white lace curtains around the window very gently.

_At least none of it is a surprise to me… I should have known… I have to accept part of the blame for this… I chose to live…_

Michaela squinted, her eyes dropping closed once again. _The two worlds are so different… no-one so much as questioned my survival back home… _She chuckled lightly, _except Hank, of course… Here… well… no-one dares say it… but they still think it… 'She was too easy'… 'she lost control'… 'she let him'… I'd have probably thought the same if I'd stayed here…_

She drew a replenishing breath, rolling onto her back. _But it's not the same here… If I'd have been out walking in the middle of the night… then… yes, it would be my fault… If I'd deliberately put myself in danger, then…_ She opened her eyes, staring up at the ornate ceiling. _But didn't I? Isn't that exactly what I did… I knew they were raiding all around… and I chose to go out there… but I had to… And, after all, I knew best, didn't I… Matthew… Sully… they both tried to talk me out of it… but, no… I assured them everything would be fine._

"Maybe women just aren't meant to be doctors…" _Did I say that out loud?_

Michaela frowned, bringing her left hand just below her right on her stomach. She felt the feather-like movement brush just under her left hand.

"All right, I take it back…" she looked down, thrown by her automatic response. _Did I just… do it again? _Michaela pulled her hands sharply away from her abdomen, letting them drop to her sides against the quilt.

The movement stopped.

Feeling the dull ache begin once again in her lower spine, Michaela rolled over onto her right side, secured her hands under the pillow and dropped her eyes closed.

**X.O.X**

After her talk with Matthew, Colleen had wandered aimlessly back through the house, eventually settling down in one of the large armchairs in the living room, to read. She opened the dark green, leather-bound book, removed the crocheted bookmark, and stared blankly at the writing before her.

Focusing her eyes, still crusty from crying, Colleen tried to shift her attention to the black ink against the dull white pages. She couldn't. The words were empty; she read several lines, knowing she didn't care about tobogganing, or snow fights. She replaced the bookmark and closed the book, feeling the uneasiness return to her stomach. Guilt.

She sighed, running her fingers along the edge of the book. Matthew had been right. How could she have been so cruel? That wasn't who she was.

"Miss Colleen… lunch, dear…" she looked up upon hearing the voice; Ellen smiled from across the room.

"Yes, Miss Ellen… thank-you…" Colleen rose to her feet quickly, walking behind the chambermaid through the entrance foyer. Colleen paused, when Ellen turned to head up the stairs to her left.

She quickly deduced the older woman's intentions. "Oh… Miss Ellen… I… I can go get Ma…" she touched the woman lightly on the shoulder.

"Oh, no dear… please… you go to the table…" she insisted, Colleen shaking her head and moving up the staircase.

"Really… it's all right. I… I want to…" Colleen reinstated, the maid having no choice but to agree and move back towards the dining room.

Colleen paced to the top of the stairs, suddenly feeling apprehension sweep over her. _What if she thinks I'm going to say something awful to her again? What if she beats me to it?_

She swallowed as she arrived outside Michaela's bedroom once again. Taking a deep breath, she tapped on the door lightly.

Colleen waited, running her tongue along the inside of her cheeks, before knocking once again, slightly louder.

"Dr. Mike?" she uttered, reaching for the door handle.

She waited.

Nothing.

Biting her lower lip, Colleen very carefully turned the knob, and pushed the door open slowly, expecting a verbal protest at any second.

Once she had stepped into the room, however, the nervousness fell from Colleen's face. Michaela was sound asleep, laying on her right side, her hands in front of her, her eyelids peacefully closed.

"Dr. Mike…" Colleen whispered, crossing the room.

Still nothing.

Colleen picked up the edge of her skirt and bent down quietly by Michaela's bedside, gripping the edge of the mattress lightly. She studied her face carefully, not knowing whether or not to wake her.

She looked over the smoothness of Michaela's skin, noticing the precisely shaped lashes extending from the bottom of her closed eyelids. Colleen felt the heaviness fill her chest and she had to look away, knowing she'd said things to her mother she could never take back.

"I… I'm sorry, Ma…" she whispered, although could barely hear her own voice. "I'm sorry I didn't try to understand better… I'm sorry I didn't support you…" she paused, seeing Michaela's pursed lips move slightly.

"Ma?" the young girl repeated, kneeling closer towards the bed.

A smile came to her lips, as Michaela remained fast asleep.

_Everything Matthew said was right… I was a selfish little kid… only thinking about myself… never even tryin' to put myself in Dr. Mike's shoes… _She moved her hands from the edge of the mattress, clasping them together and picking at a rough nail.

_Would I have done anythin' any different? What if it had been me? I don't know… what are the rules? What are you meant to do? _Colleen frowned, and sat back on her heels. _Ma never talked about it… no-one did… I mean… I always knew bad things happened… but it was always, well… it was always girls that put themselves into bad situations… like Hank's girls… or girls that were easy… or… _She cringed, remembering the incident with Richard at the kissing tree. _Did I do somethin' wrong? No, it was only a kiss… and… he'd held me… and… but we were alone, and… was I puttin' myself in danger? Was it like the others were sayin'? Was I easy? Am I one of those girls that let boys do stuff… could it happen to me?_

Again, her teeth found her lower lip.

_No. There's a difference. Isn't there? Dr. Mike said… she said kissin' was just the first step… that… it could lead to worse stuff… was she warnin' me? Was she just tryin' to scare me? Was I just lucky?_

_No. It's different. It's different when you know the boy… Like Lewis. There is nothing wrong with me bein' alone with him… he's Mr. Bing's nephew, for heaven's sake, I know him. Ain't nothin' wrong with Dr. Mike bein' alone in the woods with Sully… and I've known Lewis longer than that._

_So where do you draw the line? When is kissin' not all right? Sully used to kiss her all the time… and that was all right… how do you know who you can trust? How do you protect yourself?_

"Ma… I really am sorry… I'm sorry he hurt you… I'm sorry you got pregnant… and I'm sorry you have to have this baby…" she raised her head as she spoke, her voice still low.

_It's not the baby's fault, but I can't blame her for hatin' it… What if… what if people don't understand? Matthew almost didn't. Lots a people won't understand either… that you can get pregnant even if you don't want to… What if we go home… and people don't believe her?_

Colleen's eyes widened, as she moved her gaze from Michaela's face to her enlarged stomach.

"Ma… I'm sorry I didn't understand all the things you were runnin' from… But you don't have to worry. Sully, and Matthew and me… we know it weren't your fault… I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before… I'm sorry I didn't try to see it through your eyes." Colleen reached tentatively for Michaela's right hand, which lay by her side.

As she slowly slipped her fingers between her mother's thumb and palm, Colleen allowed herself to notice the warmth of her touch. _It's all right… _the young girl reassured herself, tightening her grip slightly against her mother's hand.

_It's all right… it's gone…_ she repeated clearly in her mind, as she delicately turned Michaela's hand over, and inspected her knuckles and fingertips. _It's over…_ Colleen reassured herself, as she placed her mother's hand back down against the mattress.

_No, it's not…_ a small voice nagged at her. Colleen dropped her eyes closed, and willed the voice away. _Yes. It's over for now… _she reaffirmed and clasped her hands against her skirt.

"Ma… lunch is ready… wake up, Dr. Mike…" she smiled, noticing Michaela not budge until the final two words had left her lips.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she recognized the girl sitting beside her.

"Colleen?" Michaela voiced quietly, opening her eyes and becoming more alert.

"Wanted to come see if you were comin' down for lunch?" she swallowed, feeling guilt melt into embarrassment and nervousness.

Michaela blinked several times, as she comprehended the question. "No… I… please send my apologies… I'd rather rest for awhile longer…" Michaela muttered, as she noticed the change in Colleen's facial expression. A softness. Her eyes were calm.

"All right… I'll tell Miss Ellen." The young girl smiled, and stood up from the side of the bed.

"Thank-you…" Michaela whispered, her eyes falling closed again, as she curled her arms back up under her head.

Colleen crossed the room to the door, about to turn and reply, "Dr. Mike, I…" she trailed off, a larger smile spreading over her face, when she realized Michaela had already fallen back to sleep.

Opening the door as softly as possible, Colleen departed from the room, closed it again with equal care, and descended back down the staircase.

**X.O.X**

The Cooper children, Sully, and Rebecca ate lunch in relative silence, Brian occasionally asking the odd question. By the time they finished, it had just gone twelve-thirty.

"Been over an hour…" Sully glanced up at the old grandfather clock across the dining room.

"I asked her if she wanted to come down for lunch…" Colleen shrugged, her manner having become far less outgoing and her voice much softer the last few hours. "She said she wanted to rest…"

Rebecca nodded, and added to the young girl's reply, "And Ellen took her up a tray…" Rebecca glanced across to the small, rounded chambermaid, who nodded with a polite smile.

"Yes, Ma'am… Miss Michaela was in bed…" she spoke curtly, and stopped abruptly in response to the man's quick movements.

"I've had enough of this…" Sully pulled the napkin from his lap and threw it down in exasperation on the edge of the table.

"Sully, wait… I… perhaps it would be better if I check on her… I… she's spoken with me… I wouldn't want either of you to become more upset…" Rebecca rose to her feet smoothly and gently slipped the napkin to the side of her plate.

Sully nodded, feeling hurt by the fact that Rebecca seemed concerned about him upsetting Michaela. He watched her leave the room silently, and reflected on the altercation at the bottom of the stairs earlier that morning. Maybe she had a point. Tact certainly wasn't his forte… not at the moment. He was beyond tact.

**X.O.X**

Rebecca knocked twice and, receiving no verbal response, slowly opened the door. "Michaela?" she whispered again, stepping into the room and closing the door.

"I don't want to talk about it…" Michaela, curled up on her left side, was facing the windows, layers of sheets and quilts over her.

"Then we don't have to talk about it…" Rebecca crossed the room, and perched routinely on the edge of the mattress. She glanced around the lavender painted room, realizing never, in her almost twenty-four years of marriage, had she spent so much time in this bedroom.

Michaela remained quiet, her breathing slow and even.

"Sully said you went to see William this morning…" Rebecca queried, her voice nonjudgmental.

"I _said_ I didn't wish to discuss it…" Michaela reiterated, Rebecca able to hear the strain in her voice this time.

"Michaela…" she considered her words carefully, "… nobody is trying to… control you… to dictate what you should or shouldn't do… we are all just… worried about you. It's not that we're demanding answers from you because we disapprove of anything you have done or haven't done… we… just are worried… we want to support you," Rebecca could hear the angered phrases from the conversation that morning play over in her mind.

"We? You mean Sully…" Michaela whispered after a pause.

"Yes, I mean Sully… I mean all of us. Sully just… I'm sure he didn't mean to sound so… condescending earlier, he was just scared. From the moment Brian told us you'd left, he was scared…"

"I feel as though everyone is trying to tell me what to do… as if… I'm not my own person anymore…" Michaela pulled the quilt slightly tighter over her right shoulder.

"I know. I felt the same when I was first married. Mother was so distant, and Father… busy… but also… Father treated us all so differently than most men…" Rebecca reflected on the struggles she'd had to adjust to married life. She'd never said anything; just nodded politely and accepted her husband's directions, and then, quietly gone about things in her own way regardless. She smiled; her sister on the other hand, was much more vocal in her defiance.

"He… didn't expect us to be answerable to him. He was always… there… if we needed advice… but he didn't… treat us like he owned us…" She subtly rolled over onto her back as she spoke, looking at her sister for the first time.

"I know… and it was hard going from that freedom… to… the real world…" Rebecca chuckled, looking around the room in indication.

"But why does it have to be that way?" she frowned and clasped her hands under her chest.

"Because… we have to accept the responsibilities we have to the people in our lives… in some relationships, it is about control and ownership; in _good_ relationships, it's about trust, honesty, but mostly about respect. Michaela, Sully wasn't demanding that you tell him where you'd been because he wanted to know; he was angry because he was frightened you'd gone back to William's, were putting yourself in danger, and because you came through the front door, looking considerably distressed and unkempt. His concern, just… came out as anger… and Michaela, you haven't exactly been the most… predictable lately." Rebecca phrased her final sentence very tentatively.

"I know…" Michaela sighed. "I just… overreacted to him. I felt like I'd been a naughty child and stayed out too late…" she shrugged, "… wasn't that long ago Matthew and I were having this same argument. He wanted to get married, I said he was too young… he demanded to know why he was answerable to me… and I said because he was still a child, and living with me…" Michaela shook her head, "… well that just made things worse; he moved out… eventually, he realized… we both did… that it wasn't about me being the adult, the parent… but about me being concerned for him… and I've gone and made the exact same mistake…" she chastised herself, as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

"I don't even want to think about going through that with Edmund Jr. Although, I suspect my husband will take the less… diplomatic approach, and simply say, 'you'll do what you're told' and that will be that. Of course, I'll smooth things over… but then that is what I always do…" Rebecca smiled, as Michaela reached for her hand.

"Thanks, Becca." Michaela squeezed her hand more firmly.

"Don't mention it… Why don't you come downstairs?" she gestured back towards the closed door.

"All right…" Michaela conceded, and managed to untangle herself from the array of bedclothes.

Rebecca stood and watched with a warm smile as her sister paced around the end of the bed to arrive next to her. "Michaela… I…" Rebecca hesitated, still realizing the subject was rather delicate. "… did you want to go out… just the two of us, this afternoon?" She arrived by the door and opened it, continuing the conversation as they moved along the corridor.

"Out?" Michaela looked up curiously.

"Well… shopping…" Rebecca tried to soften the blow, "… _clothes_ shopping…" she emphasized, preparing herself for a multitude of emotional responses.

Michaela shrugged, not immediately catching her albeit very faint meaning. "… you… mean _me_…"

"Well, I wouldn't imagine you're feeling particularly… comfortable… and… now that you've decided…" Rebecca wanted to slowly melt herself into the floor; hating having to be so awkward around something that is ordinarily such an exciting event.

"I… I've decided… but I…" Michaela swallowed, glancing downwards, realizing that even with the waistband of her skirt pulled up two inches higher, it was still proving a struggle to fasten each morning. And undergarments were another difficulty entirely.

"Nothing… over the top, I promise… just the two of us… and there's one shop in particular, Maureen, Claudette and I have been to… the lady's name is Bridget… and she's very sensible, none of that pretense you sometimes have to tolerate." They slowly descended the stairs, Michaela warming to the idea reluctantly.

"I suppose… she's not one of those shop assistants that wants to know your life story, I hope?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, Rebecca quickly grabbing her arm.

"Oh, absolutely not… not at all…" she reassured.

"All right." Michaela rolled her eyes, relenting.

Rebecca couldn't stop the smile which slowly broadened on her face.

"Honestly, I don't know why I ever try resisting you… you always win out…" Michaela shook her head.

"Do I?" Rebecca flashed a knowing grin, both chuckling as they went their separate ways at the bottom of the stairs.

**X.O.X**

Michaela had searched through the sitting room, library, and even the study, managing to find Matthew and one very quiet Colleen, but still no Sully.

"Might be outside?" Matthew suggested, turning back to the book he was 'pretending' to read.

Michaela nodded and headed for the back door.

She remained concealed through the screen door for several minutes, watching as Sully entertained Brian; first finishing a playful wresting game and then whizzing him around in circles, Brian's arms stretched over his head, as he squealed gleefully.

"Aww, why'd ya stop?" The little boy protested once he'd found his balance.

"Coz otherwise you're gonna make yaself sick…" Sully laughed, looking up as he heard the door open.

"Heya Ma…" Brian smiled, straightening out his vest and collar neatly.

"You two look like you've been having fun?" Michaela observed, Brian nodding quickly, his smile broadening.

"Except Sully stopped…" he dropped his head.

Sully looked from the small boy up to Michaela, still breathing slightly heavily, his hands on his hips. _Don't ask… just shut up and let her talk. _He reminded himself firmly.

"Brian… Colleen and Matthew are in the library reading, do you think you might join them?" Michaela absent-mindedly began tidying the boy's hair.

"All right, Ma… thanks Sully…" he obeyed happily, and jogged back towards the house.

Michaela folded her arms across her chest, and snatched a brief glimpse in Sully's direction, careful to ensure he hadn't noticed.

Sully dropped his hands from his hips, and retrieved his jacket, which he had neatly folded over the back of a garden chair. Slipping it back on, he managed a quick look in Michaela's direction, also, making sure she hadn't seen him.

Michaela looked at the spectacular white carnations which lined the left corner of the garden; she looked at the large oak tree which hung over the back brick fence; she glanced down at her arms crossed over her enlarged chest. She looked everywhere but at Sully.

He nervously turned his head in her direction, watching the effort she was expending in order to avoid looking or talking to him. He bit his lower lip, but couldn't drop the smirk from his face.

Michaela, in an attempt to sneak another look in his direction, caught a glimpse out of the corner of her right eye. Her jaw dropped. "And just what are you smirking about?" She dropped her hands to her hips, and turned defensively towards him.

"No… ah… weren't… weren't smirking, was ah… ah…" he rubbed his hand over his mouth looking away.

"You were too, smirking." She reiterated. Pausing just long enough to change the subject. "I'm not apologizing," she announced crisply.

"Anyone askin' ya to?" He dusted off the thighs of his gray trousers.

"Well… just so long as you know…"

"Rather think I oughta be the one apologizing to you…" He muttered.

"Rebecca said you were just worried… and I don't blame you…" Michaela rested her hands against the sides of her lilac skirt.

"Just… that… I thought maybe you'd changed your mind… and… if you had of… I… 'least wanted to be there…" Sully saw Michaela's eyes drop thoughtfully.

"You mean you would have let me? Despite what you believe?" she turned slightly, not exactly facing him, but not exactly facing away either.

"Course I would have… Michaela, did you go to see William this morning because you wanted his help?" Sully took a very small step towards her. They were still over a yard apart.

"No…" she kept her eyes downcast.

_Don't ask, just go with it. _He reminded himself more strongly. He waited.

"I… went… because I needed to tell him I had decided against it I had to thank him also…" Michaela updated him slowly. Her mouth twitched slightly near the end of the sentence, and Sully very carefully took another step closer.

He knew the look on her face when she was hiding something; thinking about something other than what she was actually saying._ Don't remind her you're here. Just wait…_

"He… took a lot of risks… jeopardized his professional reputation in fabricating the specifics of the overdose… he… when it was what I wanted, he agreed to help me. That alone would have cost him his license had he been found out." Michaela finished recanting the less emotional facts, remembering the far more significant reason for her visit to William's that morning.

She swallowed and looked slowly around the garden, surprised by Sully's continued silence. "… he… said he had feelings for me… and asked if I felt the same way." Michaela focused her attention on a small bird that was flying from a thick branch of the oak tree, to the ground, then back again, beginning to build its nest. "I said I didn't know… he… admitted to me that, after Rebecca had told him the truth, he'd decided to terminate the pregnancy if that was what I so wished. He said that, if I was to be staying… would I… agree to see him." Michaela remembered the touch of his hand against her own, only that morning.

Sully clenched his jaw tightly, but still said nothing. _She's punishing me; deliberately punishing me for demanding answers from her this morning._

"That is when I told him… that I had changed my mind about the baby… He asked if I meant going home, or going away… and I asked if they were my only options. He said… that it wouldn't be proper to proceed with a pregnancy here, given that I was not married…" Michaela felt the blood drain away from her cheeks, remembering the awkward way in which William had phrased his next sentence, "He… said that if I wanted to keep this baby, then he didn't think it appropriate to stay in Boston… and… I asked, would it be different… if I _was_ married…" She felt her teeth begin to chatter, knowing it was not from the cold air alone. "I don't know if I meant him specifically, or not… but… he assumed I did…" Michaela watched the small bird delicately collate all the tiny twigs together into a small pile.

"He said… that… he didn't think it would be possible… for us to have a relationship under those circumstances," she felt the air leave her lungs as she finished.

Sully noticed then that much of the color had vanished from her already pale complexion. It was at that moment, he realized, she'd never intended her disclosure to hurt him. There was a rejection on her face, the likes of which he'd not seen for over four months, when the young injured cowboy had refused to let her treat him.

He opened his mouth, about to utter a heartfelt 'I'm sorry', when she continued.

"I asked if that was because I was not aborting the baby… and he said 'Yes'. I asked if that was because he would be embarrassed to be seen with me…" she glanced downwards only long enough to wrap her arms around the top of her abdomen. "… and he said 'No'… He said… it was because if I'd agreed to have the abortion, he wouldn't have to look at me and… remember… but if I didn't… then… he couldn't love me… because… it would always be there… that wanting to keep the baby was not a decision he felt comfortable with, as if my choosing not to have the abortion, was somehow admitting that I'd wanted it to happen…" she clutched her arms slightly more protectively around her stomach, feeling the shamed tears collect again in her eyes.

Sully arrived silently by her side and reached a hand to each of her shoulders. "He had no right to expect you to make that choice, Michaela…" Sully felt the hair on the back of his neck rise in defensive anger. _How dare somebody hurt her like this._

"At least he was being honest. That was more than I could have expected from anyone else here… Until yesterday… I'd thought about staying… until yesterday, if you hadn't arrived… I probably would have sent for Colleen… Matthew is of age, he could have chosen… but I would have had the abortion… and stayed…" Michaela divulged rationally.

He fought the urge to interject earlier, however, resisted until she had trailed off into silence. "And now?" He moved his hands slightly over her shoulders, noticing how small her frame was.

"You're right… we need to go home…" she looked from the lush surroundings back to Sully's calm, accepting nod. "That's why I didn't want to tell you where I'd been… I didn't want to have to explain myself to one more person… not then…" she blinked quickly several times, only then noticing the weight of his hands on her shoulders.

"I understand… I'm sorry I was so demanding of you… it weren't my place…" He could see the fragility in her face, in her eyes. He hesitated; there was something he wanted to ask her, but, he wasn't sure if it had already been too eventful a day. Maybe it could wait.

"I know you were just worried because you care… it's all right…" she replied, accepting his apology.

"So… when did you want to leave?" He returned to the previous topic, slipping his hands from her shoulders.

She pretended not to notice. "Well, I suspect we've already been enough of an imposition to Rebecca and her family… and it's not as though there is any reason to delay. The next train I suppose." Michaela spoke with detachment, not allowing her to think anything more of 'going home' than the fact that it was 'leaving Boston'.

"I'll find out…" Sully nodded with a small smile. He knew that perhaps this was one of the hardest decisions Michaela had had to make.

"I'd best go back inside… Rebecca," she sighed, not relishing the thought, "… is taking me shopping…"

"Shopping?" Sully raised an eyebrow, never sensing Michaela to be the 'shopping' type.

"Apparently it's some sort of family baby tradition. You're right, shopping has never exactly been my idea of… enjoyment, but I certainly can't continue wearing the same clothes for the next four and a half months… and Rebecca never asks anything of me…" Michaela justified, as they turned back towards the house.

"Ahh, _that_ kind of shopping…" Sully understood quickly, and tried to gauge her reaction with a tentative smirk.

"I'll see you at supper…" She was about to reach for the door, when Sully caught her left arm lightly.

"Michaela… don't… worry about what happened today… he doesn't deserve you… not if he thought that." Sully opened the door, and gestured for her to go first.

"Still hurt though…" Michaela shrugged, lifting her skirt slightly as she stepped inside. "That he didn't want me…"

"Yeah…" Sully closed the door quietly, and leant forward to move a strand of loose hair back over her shoulder, "… Michaela… I…" he cleared his throat, wanting her to at least know his commitment to her, "… I want ya to know… if… that's important to you… then… I would…" He looked along the corridor as they continued walking; sure that Michaela wouldn't understand what he meant. _He_ didn't really understand what his garbled sentence had meant.

"Sorry? If what's important?" Michaela frowned, arriving in the entrance foyer, distracted in looking around for her sister. She was oblivious to the magnitude of the conversation that was taking place.

"If… well, gettin' married… or… not bein' on ya own… was important," Sully watched as she moved hastily from the sitting room, then across to the dining room, as he spoke. It wasn't until he'd finished and she'd arrived at the bottom of the staircase, her left hand resting on the banister, that she actually deduced what he was trying very non-threateningly to say.

"Sully…" she gripped the banister tighter with her hand and froze.

"Sorry… I… didn't mean that to come out like…" he tried to brush over his offer.

"I just wasn't expecting you to… put it quite like that… as if you were offering to fix the wagon…" Michaela gradually turned back to look at him, her expression a mixture of surprise and disapproval.

"That's exactly why I did just… say it… didn't want it to be a big deal… didn't want you to think I was trying to make a big deal out of askin'… I just… wanted you to know… the option is there…" Sully saw a range of emotions play across her face; from surprise, through to contempt, shock and disappointment.

"The option?" she baulked, in some ways feeling relieved he'd brought it up, in other ways feeling like the ugly little puppy dog that had been the last in the crate, waiting to be sold.

"Please, Michaela… don't… make this into a _thing_…." He raised his hands defensively in front of him, trying desperately to calm the situation down. "I wanted to say, that from where I'm standin'… if you want me around… if you want me to marry ya… then… that's what I want. It's not about me… it's about what _you_ want… but I didn't _want_ to make it into a big formal moment, because I didn't want you feeling pressured… That's it." He let his hands drop back to his sides, as he exhaled nervously, watching her face closely for any sign of an emotional reaction, one way or the other.

Michaela, on the first step of the staircase, was several inches taller than him, and kept her face completely blank for what felt like a very long and drawn-out period of time. _There you go, Michaela, he's said it. He has asked you. Isn't that exactly what you wanted? _She frowned slightly, studying his face intently. _No. It's exactly what I didn't want… I confide William's rejection to him, and then suddenly he proposes, like he's trying to patch things up. He proposes to me, because he thinks I'm upset that no-one else will? Am I upset that no-one else will? Do I want to marry him? _She swallowed and turned back towards the stairs, not giving him an answer. _Say something to the man, Michaela… Don't just leave him standing there…_

She cleared her throat. "Thank-you for the offer, Mr. Sully…" she raised her voice in a clinical manner and proceeded very swiftly up the long staircase.

Sully rubbed his left hand over his forehead and eyes, as he watched her ascend the staircase. _You idiot. That could not have gone one bit worse if you actually tried._ Shaking his head, as if trying to erase the event from history, he turned and headed off to find the children.


	83. Chapter 83

**Chapter 83**

"That's the door, they're back, they're back!" Brian pulled on his cousin's arm, quickly abandoning the duet she was trying to teach him at the piano.

He arrived into the entrance hall, along with Colleen and Ellen, as Rebecca and Michaela made their way inside.

"Ellen, take these upstairs, will you…" Rebecca handed the chambermaid copious bags and boxes, reaching to take the final two from Michaela.

"You've… had a successful day, then?" Colleen eyed the assortment of merchandise with the shared excitement only another woman does.

"Uh… it was indeed… Penny, your mother is a terribly bad influence…" Michaela unbuttoned her cloak and laid it over her right arm.

"Wow, Ma… that's really nice…" Brian's face lit up when he noticed the new outfit she had on; a dark purple skirt with matching bodice. The cuffs, and lapels of which were elegantly decorated with black stitching. Both, as Bridget had assured, would be 'easily accommodating'. And, as Michaela took great relief in, none of the outfits they had chosen, made her look frumpy.

"Thank-you, sweetheart…" Michaela touched the child's face lightly.

"Oh… and we have something for all of you, too…" Michaela turned to Rebecca who had managed to keep hold of one paper bag. "Why don't we move into the sitting room…"

Michaela, Rebecca, Penny, Colleen and Brian all gathered around the large couch, Michaela carefully reaching into the bag for the first item. "Penny…" she presented the young girl with the tissue paper wrapped gift, watching as she tore eagerly through the paper to reveal the large, realistically weighted cloth doll.

"Aww, _great_…" Brian rolled his eyes, none pleased, just imagining what tonight's game would consist of.

"What about… Josephine?" the girl looked between her mother and aunt, quite terrified.

"Well, honey, we thought Josephine might like a little rest for a while, with all this playing, we were worried she might lose a finger or be damaged." Rebecca consoled, having managed to hide her concern that the very expensive china doll would be broken with all the activity she had been receiving recently.

"Oh… no matter… she'll just have a little baby sister…" Penelope shrugged and hugged the doll appreciatively.

"What about me?" Brian quickly changed the subject, not one bit impressed by the new 'baby'.

"I think there's something here for you? Did we get Brian something, Aunt Rebecca?" Michaela flashed a teasing grin at her sister.

"Hmm, we might have… I do hope we didn't leave it in the… ahhh…." Rebecca played along as Michaela produced the solid looking object, wrapped in brown paper.

"Thanks, Ma… Aunt Rebecca," he smiled and reached for the object, opening it with considerably more respect than Penelope had.

"Aww, how'd you know I love trains?" Brian spun the wheel of the polished light-colored wooden engine.

"Oh, I've no idea…" Michaela feigned complete naiveté and raised her voice slightly as he delighted in his gift.

"Wail 'til I show Matthew…" He began crawling around, pushing the train over the rug as Michaela retrieved another item from the bag. A square, royal blue, satin box.

"Colleen…" she handed it to her with a slightly nervous smile; what if Colleen didn't like the gift; worse, what if she didn't even accept it?

"I…" she swallowed, surprise bonding instantly with guilt. "Ma, I… really don't deserve…" she blushed, and glanced from the stunning box back to her mother.

"Just… open it…" Michaela widened the small smile on her lips knowingly, as the young girl timidly reached forwards to take the gift.

She held the box evenly balanced in both her hands, before moving her right hand from under it, and slowly running the tips of her fingers along the gold-cornered edge of the side.

Her shoulders rising, she carefully lifted the lid, Brian hearing the small gasp of disbelief and awe, as the girl looked from the gold chain, with a small ruby pendant, and delicate matching earrings.

Colleen alternated her open mouth from the contents of the box to Michaela's curious expression. "Ma… I… I can't accept this…" her eyes widened as Brian poked his head up from the floor.

"Wow… is that real, Ma?" He raised his eyebrows with a small squeal of delight.

"Yes, Brian," Michaela answered simply, keeping her eyes on Colleen's mixed expression. Michaela could tell the young girl was indeed fond of the gift. She also could tell Colleen was conflicted by guilt following her earlier behavior.

"Thanks… Ma…" Colleen closed the box carefully, still feeling awkward around her mother.

Michaela glanced over at her sister, seeing that Rebecca was as delighted by the young girl's excitement as she was.

Rebecca, Michaela, and Colleen looked up, as Matthew and Sully appeared in the room opposite them.

"Thought we heard someone squealin'?" Matthew frowned, seeing Colleen immediately rising to her feet and rushing over to them.

"Look what Ma got me…" Matthew nodded with a supporting smile, as Colleen handed him the necklace to fasten.

"Ma got me a train…" Brian crawled along the floor, deliberately running the wooden toy over Sully's foot. "Whoo-whoo…" the boy giggled.

Penelope remained silently sitting in the single armchair, dressing and undressing the doll. She'd been rather intrigued by the genuine displays of appreciation she'd witnessed.

"That's nice, Brian…" Sully bent down to inspect the train, trying to meet eyes with Michaela across the room.

"Oh, Matthew… for you…" Michaela held the gift out to him. The box was smaller than Colleen's had been and was dark brown in color.

"Why… ah… we gettin' gifts?" He muttered, reaching for the box.

"No reason… I just spent the afternoon being spoiled… and didn't think it very fair to not get something for each of you… Open it…" she kept her eyes locked on the young man, as he frowned in concentration and slowly opened the small box.

The room was silent, as he lifted the golden pocket watch from its case. "Ma… this… you can't have just bought this for no reason…" Matthew felt the weight of the solid object in his right hand.

"No… well actually, we didn't buy it… Your aunt managed a bit of deception… Turn it over…" Michaela waited as Matthew squinted and cleared his throat, before reading the inscription aloud.

"If nothing else, principles are the one thing a man may call his own." Matthew squinted slightly closer, noticing the two pairs of initials under the inscription. _JQ; MC. _He looked back up, "This was your father's?" He stuttered nervously.

Michaela nodded solemnly. "And now it's yours…" she locked eyes with Matthew for several seconds.

"I'd refuse… only you made it impossible…" His face broke out into an open smile, as he showed Sully the initialing.

"I managed to collect it from Mother's this afternoon…" Rebecca spoke warmly.

Everyone absorbed themselves with their gifts for a while, Penelope was the first to speak.

"Come on, Brian…" she stood from the chair and bent down to pull him to his feet.

"Aww… we ain't gonna be playin' with that doll, are we?" He spun the wheels of his train in distraction.

"Just until dinner time… _please_…" the young girl pleaded, smiling charmingly at Brian.

"Well… I guess so… just till supper." Brian relented and followed her up the staircase to her room.

"Speaking of supper, I must check with Ellen," Rebecca rose from her seat and silently left the room.

Sully hung awkwardly by the entrance to the sitting room, Matthew and Colleen showing each other their presents.

"Thanks, Ma… I… don't know what to say…" Matthew muttered quietly, before reaching forwards to hug her tightly.

"There's nothing you need to say, Matthew. Your grandfather would have been proud had he known you." She embraced him strongly, before stepping backwards and continuing across the room. She looked at Sully very briefly, and walked through the entrance hall to begin climbing the stairs.

"That was a real nice thing to do for the kids…" He spoke, catching her quickly and ascending the stairs, several steps behind her.

"Well, I've… a lot of making up to do with them…" Michaela replied matter-of-factly, as they reached the top of the stairs.

"Michaela… can we just forget about… earlier…" He arrived quickly at his point, pacing along the hallway to her right.

"So now you're taking it back…?" She muttered sarcastically.

"No… _no, _I ain't takin' it back… I just… probably weren't the right thing to say… weren't the right time." Sully corrected her, trying to be honest.

"Oh, and there's going to be a 'right time', is there?" She was still hurt from the casual manner of his proposal.

"I don't mean that… I mean…" he growled lightly in exasperation, "why do you have to turn everything around?" Michaela opened the door to her bedroom, pretending to ignore him.

"You're the one who brought it up, actually," she reminded him, stepping into her room.

"Yes, but because I wanted to apologize, not because I wanted to fight with you…" He followed her into the room, not thinking anything of it, until he saw the disapproval on her face.

"Do you mind?" she protested, glancing around at the assortment of boxes and bags on her bed and dressing table.

"No, I don't, what?" He frowned, not understanding her protest.

"You can't just… follow me in here… It's not proper…" she justified, opening the lid of the first box.

"Michaela, I was in here yesterday…" Sully shrugged, taking a curious step closer to see what she'd been buying.

Michaela's jaw dropped and she quickly placed the lid back over the contents. "Well that was different, I was in bed… you had just arrived… You can't simply be coming and going from my room… people will see…" her eyes widened to elaborate her point.

"Michaela, for heaven's sake… Brian and I play checkers on your bed every week…" Sully rolled his eyes.

"Well, that's different… if you're up here, people are going to think something's going on…" she gestured for him to move back towards the doorway.

He muttered quickly under his breath, "I wish something _was_ going on…" Sully rephrased instantly, "Please… can… can you just hear me out… and just believe what I'm saying for the next minute." He waited as she folded her arms, and raised a single eyebrow in his direction. "All right, I know I've already said this to you once, and… you were angry… so perhaps you didn't see where I was comin' from… Earlier, when I said what I said, the _only_ reason I said it so casually… was because I was worried that if I made a big deal out of it, then you'd think that saying 'no' was a big deal. That if I asked you… formally… then you'd feel pressured into saying 'yes', because I asked you… not because you _wanted_ to." He looked around the room, not believing she'd managed to remain silent throughout his explanation.

Michaela allowed herself to become transfixed by his rich, blue eyes as he spoke, barely hearing the words. When she realized he'd stopped talking, she looked away, quickly making sense of what he had actually said.

"I'm sorry… I overreacted. I just… after this morning with William… and then you throwing a marriage proposal to me as if you were asking what I thought we should have for supper… I felt…" she drew a sharp breath, feeling the now painfully familiar emotional overreaction sweep over her.

"I'm sorry… Michaela… I never meant to make you feel like I weren't taking it seriously. I was. And it weren't just coz a what you said happened this morning, either… I just… couldn't stand seein' ya… feel so alone… hurt…" Sully moved back across the room, Michaela having paced around the end of the bed to the window whilst he spoke.

"It just felt like sympathy. Which is exactly what I don't want…" She remembered Rebecca's conversation from the night before, and forced herself to be open with her feelings.

"Well, that's good, coz I don't waste my time feeling sorry for people. Just wasted energy. Rather be puttin' effort into helpin' 'em heal…" He arrived less than a foot behind her as she turned from the window to face him.

"At least we agree on that… I'm sorry I overreacted." She smiled, still not used to his short hair. It wasn't that he looked like a different person, just not quite as familiar as he had before. Michaela liked it though. It was a new start.

"That's all right… anger I can handle… you've got every right to be as angry as you want at the moment…" Sully moved his right arm very slowly from his side, until he brushed her left elbow and upper arm. Still moving, and remaining vigilant for any objection in her eyes, he rested his hand on her shoulder, tenderly squeezing the muscles against his thumb and index finger.

She dropped her eyes closed, willing herself not to tense up; enjoying the soothing quality of his touch.

When she eventually did open her eyes, Sully saw they were wet with tears.

He hesitated, about to move his hand away, when she looked up at him fearfully. "Sully…" she whispered, so quietly that he saw her mouth move, more than heard the sound.

He frowned, returning his hand to her shoulder, trying to read her empty expression. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Matthew the night before. Maybe, after everything that had happened… it was the opposite of what he thought. Maybe… she actually needed to feel loved.

He took several long, deep breaths, concentrating on the sensation of her shoulder under his hand. Moving his fingers ever-so-slightly, feeling each knotted muscle, each varied texture.

Michaela looked awkwardly from his chest to his captivating blue eyes, a million thoughts flashing through her mind. As she felt her shoulders sink in response to his movements, Michaela heard fragments of the conversation she'd had with Rebecca in her mind.

"Sully…" She felt her shoulders rise with nervousness, "yesterday, when you said we could be friends…"

He took another step closer towards her, adjusting his right hand slightly, and replying without hesitation. "I'm sorry I said that, Michaela… I meant it so that you wouldn't feel pressured… I didn't mean that it was all I wanted… never for a moment…" He moved his left hand to her upper arm, trying at all times to ensure she was comfortable.

Out of nowhere, a single tear ran slowly from her right eye. She brushed it off hastily. "I… thought you meant that that was all you wanted… that… we weren't going to have the life we'd planned," she glanced downwards very quickly, and by the time she'd looked back up, Sully appeared significantly closer.

"_I love you_…" he reaffirmed with more strength in his words than he thought possible.

Michaela felt her chin begin to tremble. She knew she was going to start crying, she could already feel the lump form in her throat. She couldn't speak.

Sully saw the fine movements of her chin, saw the tears collect in her eyes. He could see in that moment, proof of her strength. Just in the sheer will she was invoking to prevent herself from crying. She was strong.

Before he'd considered his intentions, Sully felt his head lower and move towards hers. Gently, he felt his lips arrive against the smoothness of her cheek, and delivered the heartfelt kiss. He felt her skin leave his lips, realizing it was Michaela who had moved her head back, and before he was able to process the reason for her movement, her soft, delicate lips were on his.

Sully brought his left hand along her arm and moved his right hand back slightly, until both were against her shoulder blades, drawing her closer against him.

He didn't remember taking a breath, although didn't feel the need for one, as he moved his lips against her mouth, first coving her lips, and then feeling her take over, to press his top lip between hers.

His body felt electrified by the mere touch of her. The tips of his fingers pressed into her muscular back, their lips continued their own affectionate battle, one claiming the other, and then the situation would change. This continued until he felt her hands slide up his chest, to glide over his thin shirt, further up, until both her arms were above his, and her hands locked forcefully around the back of his neck.

He managed to snatch a fevered breath, neither knowing who was actually in control of what they had started. Not that it mattered. Sully felt her fingernails move through the bottom of his hair, before digging into the skin of his upper neck.

Michaela had long since stopped thinking about what she was doing. And for once, she gave into feeling, never letting rational thought dictate. She could feel his hands, firmly around the back of her shoulders, she could feel her chest, pressing almost painfully against his, but she didn't want to pull away. She didn't want this moment to end. There was more he was communicating through simple touch than she ever imagined was possible; Love, acceptance, the promise of the future they'd once hoped for.

She tightened her hands around the back of his neck, drawing his mouth harder against her own, feeling his warm, ragged breath combine with hers, as they both sought each other without restraint.

Sully felt Michaela strengthen the kiss, and suddenly realized there was no longer any space between their bodies. He didn't know how exactly that had happened, didn't know whether he should perhaps, _No. Don't you even think of pulling away from her now. If she wanted to, she would._ So he listened to his conscious mind, and turned his head slightly, dragging his lips from hers and traveling down to her jaw line. As he continued moving upwards, he could taste the saltiness of the tear that had fallen from her eye. Soothingly, he moved his hands from her back, massaging her shoulders as they found their way undirected to the base of her neck. His mouth traveled downwards, over her smooth, alabaster skin, and backwards to just under her right earlobe.

Michaela had dropped her eyes closed the moment his hands reached her neck. Her head was back, and her lips slightly parted, as she felt his mouth move over the sensitive flesh. She could feel the softness of his lips, her skin tingling from his touch.

"I love you too…" She heard the words leave her mouth, never having processed them.

Sully moved his lips back up to her mouth after she'd whispered to him, and slid his right hand along the back of her neck to cup her head. He knew he had to stop. Whether he wanted to or not, whether _she_ wanted him to, there was nowhere to go; that was… acceptable. As he held her lower lip passionately between his, Sully suspected that what they were doing right at this moment probably wasn't entirely _acceptable_ in Boston, undoubtedly not for to individuals who weren't even married. However, realizing he needed to conclude the intimacy and actually deciding how he was going to do that, proved a problem.

Michaela opened her mouth slightly, as he kept his lips locked tightly over hers. She could feel his muscular chest through the thin cotton of his shirt, and, could picture him, as she had done four months ago. Just as they had today, although with considerably less clothing on, Michaela had kissed his bare chest; Sully had gripped the backs of her shoulders.

_Is that what this is? This moment… is it the chance to start again from that time? To erase the past and to reclaim our lives?_

Michaela slid her arms from his chest, around to his back, as her eyes closed tightly, and she pressed herself firmly into him.

Sully gasped unconsciously, as he felt her chest against his own, he tried to remember if they'd ever shared a kiss like this in the entire time they'd been courting. The only moment that even came close was that afternoon in the cave. Although she'd been in too much pain to feel passion like this.

It wasn't until her lips began to sting slightly, that Michaela realized that they were still in the guest bedroom of her sister's house; in Boston. They would be being called for dinner at any moment.

She removed her hands from his back, and only her mouth enough to speak, "Sully…" she mumbled, feeling his lips pull away from hers.

She paused for a moment whilst he stood back and cleared his throat. "I… it'll be supper time… and…"

"Yeah… ah… it will be…" Sully ran his hands over his white shirt, straightening it out.

"I'm sorry… maybe…" she stammered, wondering if her behavior had been improper, even selfish.

"No… there's nothing wrong, Michaela… it was what we both wanted… neither of us are apologizing…" He nodded, looking awkwardly around the room.

"Yes… ah… you're right…" Michaela drew several slow breaths, choosing to change the subject. "Would you like to see what I bought?"

He nodded with a smile, and watched eagerly as she opened the first box once again.

"I… didn't see the point in pretending it's not happening…" she sighed, Sully admiring the dark green dress, very similar to the one she'd worn the day before the horse race, however significantly more generous, and much less revealing.

"I'm glad you enjoyed spending time with your sister…" Sully rested a hand on her back, as she reached for the second box.

"Rebecca… has never been one to judge, Sully. She's the most like Father in that respect… never form an opinion, without being in possession of all the facts." Michaela showed him a sky blue blouse, a brown patterned skirt, and salmon colored dress, with precise stitching, and mother of pearl buttons.

"I should still be able to wear some of my old clothes… the blouses at least…" Michaela felt slightly guilty at the array of clothes around her.

"Up to you… long as you're comfortable… nothin' matters 'sides that…" Sully reached for her right hand, which rested on top of the box in front her. For the first time, he allowed her to see that he was actually looking beyond that. In her new outfit, Michaela had appeared to gain an extra ten pounds and it was now practically impossible to miss her condition.

She quickly noticed his gaze, and cringed, looking across the room for something to distract herself with.

"Michaela…" he paused, about to pick her up on her awkwardness. He saw her mouth drop as he spoke her name, realizing she expected him to launch into a long lecture. He swiftly decided against it, and brightened his tone. "Next train leaves for St. Louis in the mornin'… at ten…"

She turned her head, not having expected the subject change. "Oh… that's quick," she considered, swallowing and feeling apprehension rise from her stomach. Not that it was apprehension.

"Yeah… next one's not 'til Saturday, but then there's not a stage until Tuesday… and so we'd have to spend a night in Denver… If we leave tomorrow, we only have to change trains in St. Louis, and then don't have to stay in Denver at all. Get into Colorado Springs Monday afternoon." Sully slid the lid back over the large box slowly and moved it from the end of the bed to the floor.

"It just seems… so sudden… I mean, we haven't even been here a week… Won't the children and you be exhausted?" Michaela reached for the silver handled hairbrush on the corner of the dressing table and ran it slowly through the knotted ends of her long, auburn hair.

"Well… we don't have to… if you're not ready?" He smiled lightly, watching the long, shiny tresses move against the bristles of the brush.

"No, we need to return home… the children are away from school… and Matthew will be missing Ingrid… I would never want to impose on Rebecca and her family… I…" she paused beginning to see faces of the townspeople as she stepped from the stagecoach, "No… delaying is pointless."

Sully smiled, his eyes alternating between her hair, and her reflection in the mirror in front of him. "Only if you're sure…" he whispered, as he stepped slightly closer and reached for the hairbrush.

"Tomorrow…" she asserted more confidently, feeling him bring the brush down the fine strands of her long hair.

He nodded, his smile widening, as he continued several more strokes, the room silent.

"No!" Both looked up at the sound of a child's angered, high-pitched voice. They met eyes at the sound of a door slamming down the hall.

Moving quickly out into the corridor, Michaela and Sully found Brian striding briskly along the hallway, his arms folded, head down.

"What was all that about, young man?" Michaela reached for his shoulder, looking back up to Penelope's closed door.

"Nothin'…" he mumbled, still keeping his eyes downcast.

"Did you slam that door?" Michaela reached for his chin, pulling his head back up.

"Yeah…" he pulled away from her hand, glaring back towards his cousin's room for a moment.

"Why?" she pressed, trying not to become frustrated by the child's avoidant behavior.

"Dunno…" he shrugged.

"Brian…" Michaela raised an eyebrow, looking to Sully and then back to the boy.

"Answer ya Ma properly, Brian…" Sully folded his arms.

"Penny's annoyin' me… keeps wantin' to play with her dolls and pretend like we're married… I just wanna play on my own…" He dropped his arms back to his sides and looked up at his mother honestly.

"I know, Brian. She's just excited to have someone her own age to spend time with," Michaela tried to reassure the young boy, although he was not convinced by her words.

"Yeah… but it's been days now… and she always just wants to do what _she_ wants to do… never what _I_ wanna do…" He rolled his eyes, catching a glimpse of understanding from Sully.

"Well, Brian… we'll… be traveling home tomorrow, so you won't have to be around her any longer…" Michaela sighed, realizing that telling Brian actually set it in stone.

He frowned and his face gradually melted into confusion. "What… _all _of us?" he stated deliberately.

"_All_ of us, Brian…" Sully dropped his hand to the crown of the boy's head with a small chuckle.

"Do… Colleen and Matthew know yet?" His face brightened.

"No… go on…" Michaela shook her head as Brian raced for the stairs, eager to be the one to break the news.

Sully had heard the sigh in Michaela's voice earlier. "You sure?" he repeated, as they moved towards the top of the staircase.

"I rather think it is a little late not to be; now…" she gestured to the blond-haired boy as he jumped from the last step and disappeared in search of his siblings. "But, yes…" she reinforced, "I'm sure…"

**X.O.X**

Jake stepped back inside the barber shop, having just shaken out the off-white cape from the day's business. He closed the small doors, turned the lock and flicked the wooden sign to 'closed'. He blinked several times, feeling overwhelmed with exhaustion, having spent the day fighting tiredness. Crossing the room, he stared down at the razor soaking in the white metal bowl, filled with alcohol. Rubbing his eyes, they blurred slightly, and he blinked again, startling when he heard an impatient knock on the glass behind him.

"I'm closed!" Jake bellowed, as he turned around.

"Ain't a shave I want, Jake… open up…" Loren knocked again on the glass.

Jake waved him off, but Loren tapped more fiercely on the glass. Both men regarded each other for a moment, Jake realizing that Loren had no intentions of leaving.

Shaking his head and unlocking the wooden door, Jake stood aside as Loren stepped forcefully into the room.

"What do you want?" Jake demanded, having a suspicion of exactly what Loren wanted; an explanation for his drunken sleepwalking the night before.

"I reckon you know… what's been goin' on with you lately?" Loren neatened his vest and pushed his hands deep into his pockets, as Jake moved hastily around the small shop, looking for the odd task or out of place item to busy himself with.

"Oh… you mean last night?" Jake removed the razor from the bowl, carefully laying it on a clean towel to dry overnight.

"Yeah, I mean last night… but not only last night… why I heard from Hank… you been over there twice this week alone… started drinkin' shots a whiskey like it was sarsaparilla. Then you come stumblin' over to my place in the dead of night… still drunk… barely dressed," Loren sat down on the long cushioned bench, indicating he wasn't about to leave without a decent explanation.

"Look… I… been havin' a bit a trouble concentratin', that's all… just need the odd drink… calm me down… help me sleep…" Jake reached for the small black brush, and dusted hair clippings from the dark red velvet chair.

"But alcohol ain't gonna help ya sleep, Jake… Just gonna make ya sick again. Then you remember how tough it is comin' off the stuff… you really wanna go through that again?" Loren rested his left foot on his right knee, trying to speak rationally.

"Course I don't _wanna_… don't wanna be feelin' the way I'm feelin'…" he shrugged, trying to change the subject, "What, Dorothy got you over here, tryin' to get me to mend my ways…" He glanced out towards the general store.

"No, Jake… came because of the way ya were actin' last night… Things ya said…" Loren pulled his lips around his teeth, awkwardly.

"Look, if I was drunk, and was sayin' stuff I shouldn't, then I really am sorry… was just the liquor talkin'…" Jake raised his hands, palms up, forwards in apology.

"Weren't anything… wrong with what you were sayin', but don't reckon it was the whiskey talkin' either…" Loren felt increasingly nervous, more vivid fragments of Jake's ramblings coming back to him.

Jake cleared his throat, placing the brush back on the small table beside the chair. He looked up, quickly spotting the broom in the far corner, and paced across to get it. "Well, was nothin'… you heard me, was just drunk…" he dismissed, moving to the back of the chair with the broom clasped tightly in his right hand.

"You were… talking 'bout Dr. Mike, Jake… 'cept the stuff you were sayin' weren't makin' no sense," he hesitated, scratching his forehead for a moment, "were saying that we had to go find her… and I tried to tell you she was in Boston… but you were confused… you were talkin' like it was back in May… when…" Jake cut him off quickly.

"I… I remember… don't… please, don't have to remind me…" he shook his right hand very firmly in a dismissive manner; able to see the dog soldiers' camp in his mind's eye as soon as Loren had mentioned her name.

"Well… see… ya gotta quit drinkin'… it's messin' with ya mind…" Loren nodded, sounding strict and stubborn.

"Ain't the drinkin', Loren… I mean… least with the drinkin'… I… _I_ don't have to know what's in my head," Jake stared down at the small pile of hair on the floor at his feet, and carefully rested the broom against the wooden dresser.

"I… don't understand, Jake…" Loren saw the worry on his friend's face.

Jake looked away from the broom, carefully resting his hands on the edge of the pine wooden dresser. His voice was low. "Been… havin' nightmares…"

Loren felt the skin on his forehead wrinkle. "Well… wouldn't that be the alcohol… the DT's… they made ya confused last time, were sayin' all sorts a,"

"No!" Jake exclaimed loudly. He collected himself and lowered his voice. "I… I mean, it ain't like that. Started gettin' 'em several weeks ago… didn't know what it was to start with… would just look down… and there'd be all this blood… on my hands…" He glanced downwards, the palms of his hands turning upwards as he spoke.

"Jake…?" Loren looked between the barber's outstretched hands and his torn face. He was becoming concerned by his friend's dark tone.

"And… and then… a few nights later… I'd be riding… riding around… but… didn't know where I was going… I'd look down, and the blood would still be on my hands." He stumbled slowly across the floor, gradually sitting down on Loren's left side. "Weren't until last week… I realized what the nightmares were all about… I'd be standing… in the middle of nowhere… and I'd feel this weight… in my arms… look down… and it's Dr. Mike…" he finished, his elbows resting on his knees, arms still outstretched.

"That's why you said what you said last night, Jake… musta been havin' another nightmare…" Loren hesitated before reaching across to place a hand on Jake's right shoulder.

"Guess…" he took an emotional breath, "Least with the drinkin', I don't remember the nightmares anymore…" Jake whispered.

Both men looked as his right hand began to shake slightly. Jake quickly tucked it back in his trouser pocket.

"Why didn't ya say somethin', Jake… 'stead a keeping all this to yourself…" Loren turned to face him, his voice tender.

"… coz I don't want people thinkin' I'm…" he flicked his left hand in the air, "well… goin' crazy or somethin'… it'll stop… once Dr. Mike gets home…" Jake nodded, trying to convince himself.

"Jake… she might not be comin' home…" Loren rubbed his right hand over his upper lip.

"What ya talkin' about, said she's just gone for a few weeks… and Sully and the kids gone after her…" Jake dismissed quickly.

"Nothin'… yeah… guess you're right… be home soon…" Loren muttered, although not able to shed the uncertainty from his mind. "Listen, Jake… you just take care a yourself… if ya needa talk... can always talk to me… but drinkin' is only a temporary measure…" Loren patted his hand against Jake's shoulder several times, before removing it and rising to his feet.

"Yeah… ah, thanks, Loren…" Jake replied, getting to his feet also.

"Come see ya again tomorrow…" Loren paced across towards the door, Jake remaining quiet, as Loren slipped back outside.

Jake waited until Loren was very definitely out of sight, before removing his right hand from his pocket. Brushing his hands vigorously together, he stared down at them for several moments, before shaking his head and reaching for the broom against the dresser.


	84. Chapter 84

**Chapter 84**

Michaela had finished folding the last blouse from the wardrobe and placed it neatly on the edge of the bed. She turned, the empty carpet bag she had come with rested against the wall.

"Michaela?" Rebecca called from the corridor with a gentle tap on the door.

"Come in…" she replied, bringing the bag to the end of the bed and opening it.

Rebecca entered the room and looked around for awhile, seeing the unmistakable signs of packing.

"Sully says you're leaving in the morning…" she muttered, arriving by the edge of the bed.

Michaela looked up from the folded blouse in her hands. "Yes… I should have told you myself… I apologize…" she delicately placed the clothing into the bag, reaching for the next item.

"Don't be ridiculous… that's not why I came up here…" she paused. "Michaela… is this what you want?" Rebecca kept her voice light and neutral.

_Why does she keep saying it like that… Oh yes, I desperately 'want' to be returning home to a town of simple-minded, gossiping…_

She stopped the thought sharply. _That's unfair, Michaela._

"No, Rebecca… it is not what I _want_, but it is the right thing to do," She stuffed the tightly folded pale crimson skirt into the bag, trying hard not to actually think about the reality of going home.

"Michaela… yesterday… what changed your mind? You were so sure… you'd tried so hard…" Rebecca reached for the folded brown jacket, handing it helpfully to her sister.

"I don't know… it was just a feeling more than anything rational," she hesitated, packing the jacket neatly into the bottom of the bag. "Rebecca… I saw Father yesterday… I… needed to talk to him, to say goodbye…"

"So that's where you were…" Rebecca smiled, knowing that Sully had been wasting his time demanding an answer out of Michaela. She knew how stubborn she could be.

"And… I thought about who he was… what he believed in. He wouldn't have supported such a decision." Michaela spoke coldly.

"But he _would_ have supported you…" Rebecca reassured immediately.

"Yes, he would have." Michaela hesitated, before continuing, "I've had so many… dreams, Becca… when I first found out I was pregnant… I'd dream of… asking Father for his help… the first time he would say he supported my decision, the second time… he was against it… the third time…" she ran her hands down her face, "Forget it… it's not real…"

"No, Michaela… what happened the third time?" Rebecca handed her the last skirt, watching as Michaela hastily tried to dismiss the question. The tears had already collected in her eyes.

"Becca, please…" she saw the determined look on her sister's face. "I could hear it crying… and I begged Father to not make me have to see… but… I had to… and… it… just looked like him, Becca… and… what if it does…" the tears ran slowly down her cheeks.

"Ssh… Michaela…" she drew her sister into a soothing hug. Truthfully, she had no words of comfort. There was every possibility that the child her sister was carrying, _would_ look exactly like its father. "Well… that's something you'll have to deal with… and no-one's expecting you to keep this baby…" She released Michaela from the embrace. "Besides… I thought… aren't some Indian babies… rather attractive?" Rebecca pushed the words through her mouth.

Michaela shrugged, although allowed herself to actually consider the question. "Yes.. I… I suppose they are… Last year… I looked after a little boy… his mother was Indian, and his father was white…"

"Oh? And was he… cute?" Rebecca tried to sound open and unbiased, however fought against deep-rooted prejudices.

Michaela frowned lightly; _No, he wasn't exactly cute. But there was something in his spirit, in his smile. Even in the helplessness of his cries._ "Yes… I suppose he was…"

Michaela glanced around the end of the bed, looking for any more clothes. Once realizing they'd finished packing, she closed the carpet bag securely.

"Then… think about that… think about your baby as its own person… think about the life you want to give it… and that it will be yours, no matter how it may look. That _who_ it will be is up to you alone…" Rebecca kept her eyes fixed on Michaela's, waiting for her to look up. Maybe she'd overstepped the unspoken boundaries, even as a sister.

"I know… Thank you, Becca," she whispered, slowly looking up.

"Michaela… I… if Marjorie asks…when are you due?" Rebecca knew she was only using Marjorie as an excuse; that it was her that was really curious.

Michaela's eyebrows drew together into a concentrated frown. _Something… someone… yes, someone had definitely discussed… who…_ Then she remembered. "February first…" her inflection was dull, resigned.

"Will you… keep in touch?" Rebecca reached forwards to lift the heavy bag from the edge of the mattress.

"I will…" Michaela replied. "Becca?" the older Quinn daughter looked back at her. "What are you actually going to tell our sister?" Michaela clutched her hands to the frame of the bed, again looking down.

"I… hadn't thought about it… but she wouldn't dare say a word, Michaela…" Rebecca assured.

"Perhaps… Rebecca I'd never condone an untruth… however I'd really prefer she not be… awaiting it… I wouldn't want her arriving into town unannounced in four months time…" Michaela winced at the very image of her sister's judgmental face.

"Well…" she ran her tongue along the insides of her teeth, thinking, "… I suppose… I could always say you informed me… of a miscarriage…" Rebecca swallowed, realizing that the difference between 'informing' and 'actually had' was that she wasn't strictly lying.

"I think that would be… wise. Marjorie isn't exactly the most predictable of individuals…" Michaela raised an eyebrow, Rebecca nodding quickly.

"Fine… is there anything you need me to help with here?" She looked around the neat room.

"No… everything's all packed…" Michaela nodded feeling her chest tingle with nervousness.

"I'll leave you to have an early night, then…" Rebecca smiled warmly, and headed to the door.

"Goodnight," Michaela returned the smile, as her sister left the room silently.

Michaela turned around once the door had closed, looking around at the stack of boxes and the large carpet bag. _This is it._ She brought her left hand up automatically to the stronger fluttering that commenced just under her belly button. _We are all going home…_

**X.O.X**

**Thursday, 14****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Ma…. Gotta get up, Ma… we're leavin'… come on, Ma…" Brian, still in his older cousin's striped pajamas, patted his mother's shoulder lightly. "Maaaaaa… ya gonna miss the traaainnnn…" he whined, tapping her shoulder more encouragingly, as he pushed the heavy quilt away.

Michaela responded more to the crisp morning air hitting her bare legs than she did the child's gentle tapping on her shoulder. She groaned slightly, still dozing, as she reached for the quilt, forced to flutter her eyelids open when Brian pushed it further away. "Brian… where's the… Brian Cooper…"

"Come on, Ma… can't sleep… gotta… get… up…" He sprung up from the side of the bed, and quickly found his laid out clothing, pulling the sleeping attire hurriedly from his body and dressing.

Michaela rolled sleepily onto her back and allowed her eyes to adjust to the morning sunlight streaming in through the window.

"See, Ma… I'm almost dressed…" He began furiously buttoning the front of his white shirt, looking around for his boots.

"Mmm-hmm… I can see, Brian…" Michaela pulled herself up slowly into a sitting position. She felt sluggish, and exhaled slowly, as she pushed her hair back from her face.

_Why do I feel so… oh… of course…_

The daily reminder of the last four months hit her routinely, as it had done every morning for the last seven weeks. As if to needlessly confirm it, Michaela looked down.

_Oh, God…_

Brian looked up from the final button when he heard the shocked gasp from across the room.

"Somethin' wrong, Ma? Are ya feelin' all right…?" He ran quickly, his shirt hanging over his trousers, to the left side of the bed, studying his mother's displeased expression.

"Yes, sweetheart… everything's fine." Michaela dragged herself to the side of the mattress, Brian moving aside slightly as she got to her feet.

"Then how come ya looked real worried?" He glanced from her face to her stomach, which was only several inches below his eyelevel.

"I… nothing… Brian… will you finish dressing and then go downstairs?" Michaela stood by the window smoothing out her long nightdress against her firm abdomen.

"Yeah, Ma…" he tucked his shirt into his trousers hurriedly, and buttoned them up. "Hey, if you're comin' back home now, does that mean you and Sully'll get married before the baby's born?"

"Outside!" Michaela rubbed her left temple in exasperation as she pointed wildly across to the door.

"Ma?" His curious expression dropped instantly, realizing she was serious.

"Out; take your boots… and your jacket… and _leave me alone_…" Michaela paced away from the bed, feeling awkward and heavy.

The little boy hung his head, quickly collected his shoes and jacket, and scurried from the bedroom.

Michaela gazed outside into the garden below for several seconds.

_Well, you knew this was going to happen eventually… Yes, but hardly overnight… _She frowned, hesitantly looking down at her fuller stomach.

_Is that normal?_ She reprimanded herself immediately. _Michaela Quinn, you know it's normal. You know that fetal development does not necessarily occur in equal, gradual stages. _She brought her right hand quickly to the centre of her abdomen. _At least I still have a belly button… oh God, I hate this… _

She sighed and tossed her long hair back over her shoulders, moving into the adjoining bathroom, feeling her stomach brush against the large china bowl. _All right, so I just have to adjust a little bit… _She took a step backwards and reached for the folded lilac towel to her left. _I've made this decision, it's not going to get any easier. _She swallowed. _I was just hoping… it wouldn't have to be quite so obvious… just yet…_

Michaela shook her head, and leant forwards to splash the cool, refreshing water over her face. Patting her face and neck dry, she set about getting ready as swiftly as possible.

**X.O.X**

Brian clumped down the stairs, after tucking his shirt in and putting on, but not lacing his shiny, black boots. His head was lowered.

"Mornin', Brian…" Sully smiled, he and Matthew pacing the entrance foyer below.

"Mornin'…" the little boy muttered, barely looking up, "Ma's in a bad mood again."

"How do you mean?" Sully frowned, looking back up towards the first floor, concerned.

"She yelled at me… and I didn't hardly say nothin'," Brian defended himself quickly.

Matthew winced slightly, turning to Sully suspiciously, "Brian… did you mention the baby?" Matthew stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah, so?" He arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

They exchanged knowing looks, as Matthew bent down to lace up Brian's boots. Sully placed a hand on Brian's shoulder and lowered his voice slightly. "Now, Brian… there's somethin' ya gotta understand… see… ya Ma… well, she ain't…" he took a breath, the right words were proving very hard to find. "… she ain't…" Sully glared down at Matthew as the young man rose to his feet. Sully's eyes widened, indicating he needed help.

"Ah, Brian… what Sully's tryin' to say is… is…" Matthew looked back at Sully, equally at a loss for words.

"We're gonna have to… explain it to him…" Sully cleared his throat.

"Do I… gotta be here for this?" Matthew grimaced, taking a step away from Brian's side and looking longingly towards the dining room.

"Explain what? Sully… ya don't gotta explain it to me… Ma told me where babies come from…" Brian announced proudly, as he pulled his jacket on awkwardly.

"She… ah, did?" Sully and Matthew exchanged yet another surprised look.

"Yeah… a while ago… showed me a book… with all the pictures… and really long doctor names for all the inside parts… like where the baby grows and everything…" Brian explained proudly.

"Well, ah… Brian… ya see, the thing is… ya Ma…" Sully looked up as Penelope skipped down the stairs, a rather sleep-deprived looking Colleen following.

"Mornin'… ah Penny…" Sully smiled at the little girl, as she arrived by Brian's side.

"Good morning, Mr. Sully…" she replied politely, smoothing out her frilly, pink dress as she looked over Brian's maroon suit.

"You, get enough sleep Colleen?" Matthew watched his sister wipe her eyes and yawn as she stumbled down the stairs.

"Did I get _any_ sleep?" She glared not-so-subtly in the little girl's direction. "If I had to hear one more question about… what's it like to kiss a boy… or… so, what does your brother want to be when he grows up… I s_wear _I was going to be going into Ma's room, pushing Brian out of bed, and making him sleep with you two," she sighed noisily.

"Well… you'll all be back in your own beds soon…" Sully touched her shoulder briefly, in condolence.

They all looked up as Ellen walked in from the dining room. "Breakfast has just been served…" she informed the group, turning her attention to the youngest child for a moment.

"Miss Penelope, dear, where is your mother?" Ellen knew it was not courteous to begin breakfast without Mrs. Dickenson present.

"Oh… she…" Penny began to answer, when Rebecca appeared at the top of the stairs.

"I am right here…" she muttered lightly, as the children proceeded quickly into the dining room, Brian hoping they'd be having pancakes again.

"Where is Michaela?" Rebecca arrived at the bottom of the stairs, and addressed Sully.

"Still gettin' ready…" he replied, as Matthew interjected.

"Brian, ah… informed us she was… rather… on edge this morning. Someone put his foot in his mouth about the baby… so she might be a little while…" Matthew enlightened his aunt with an understanding shrug.

The three began a slow pace into the dining room.

"I spoke with her last night… and she certainly seemed… more accustomed to the baby…" Rebecca spoke honestly.

Sully waited, as Edmund Jr. walked briskly into the room between them.

"Either she's fooling herself, or she just wanted you to think that…" Sully responded, as Matthew took his seat. Rebecca and Sully remained at a slight distance from the table.

"What do you mean?" she shook her head.

"I mean… there's no way she could go from wanting to get rid a that baby, to being adjusted to it… in less than two days… just not possible… And I know Michaela… she's very good at denying her feelings… mostly to herself." Sully saw Rebecca nod in understanding.

"Oh, I know that… believe me…" she paused, "only… I believed her last night… I think she really is trying to accept that child…"

"She's tryin'… gonna take a long time though," Sully gestured to the table, as Rebecca took her seat and they began a slightly more informal breakfast than the Dickenson's were used to.

**X.O.X**

Colleen was perched comfortably in an armchair, finishing the final pages of the book she had been absorbed in, Matthew and Brian were playing an intense game of checkers across the room, Michaela sat on the large couch, slowly looking through a family photo album, and Sully sat in the armchair opposite her, pretending to be flicking through an old poetry book he'd found in the library.

Sully had remained quiet from the moment Michaela had entered the dining room, whilst they'd been eating and as they'd taken seats in the sitting room until it was time to leave.

Michaela studied his neutral expression, with increasing frustration. The fact that he wasn't saying anything just made her angrier. He was _deliberately_ not saying anything. She adjusted the album in front of her awkwardly.

"Another one!" Brian exclaimed, proudly taking possession of another of Matthew's pieces.

"Mother… do I _have _to go to school today? I will miss them leaving…" Penelope chewed on her lower lip, as Rebecca tried to encourage her out the door.

"Honey, I'm afraid so… you've had a lot of time with Brian… and you can always keep in touch…" Rebecca looked towards the sitting room, trying not to let herself weaken. "Now… say goodbye to everyone…" she instructed, seeing the little girl frown, but nonetheless pace daintily into the sitting room.

"Aunt Michaela?" she announced herself sweetly, crossing the room to address her first. "I'm leaving for school… I just wanted to say goodbye…" she alternated her eyes very quickly between her aunt and Brian, trying not to blush.

"Thank-you, sweetheart… perhaps you can come to Colorado sometime and visit us?" Michaela kissed her lovingly on the cheek, as she looked up at Rebecca with a smile.

Penny cordially said 'goodbye' to each member of the family, fluttering her eyelids several times as she approached Brian.

"Um, Brian… I…" she began awkwardly, as he looked up almost reluctantly from the checkers game. "I… just wanted to say thanks for being here to play games with… and… I'm sorry I was so bossy…"

Brian, realizing he had everyone's devoted attention pushed his chair back to address her more politely. "That's all right… I'm sorry I hid that doll… maybe… ya can come see us… sometime… I could show ya my horse?" he suggested, getting to his feet to hug her.

"That would be lovely, Brian…" Penelope smiled radiantly, hesitating for a moment before boldly leaning forwards and planting a small, delicate kiss directly on Brian's lips. "I'll miss you…" she giggled, the little boy gasping slightly as he took a step backwards and nearly knocked the chair over.

"Ah… um… ah yeah… you, ah, too…" he swallowed, gasping for breath, and turning bright red.

Both Brian and Penelope looked around as they heard Matthew and Sully chuckle lightly.

"Penelope Elizabeth!" Rebecca called, not angry with her young daughter's actions, just reacting with automatic condemnation of such forwardness.

The red-headed girl dropped her eyes with embarrassment and scampered back towards the front door, picking up her books and leaving quickly for school.

There was a long pause, as Michaela, Rebecca and Colleen all eyed each other, as did everyone else.

"Way to go, little brother!" Matthew laughed heartily, being the first to break the silence.

"Matthew!" Michaela objected, although failed to conceal the smile in her eyes.

"Aww… weren't _my_ fault… she… just…" he licked his lips, not entirely unpleased with the event that had just taken place.

"Brian, I am so sorry…" Rebecca glanced at him sincerely.

"It's… all right, Aunt Rebecca… she's… well… she's a nice cousin…" he looked downwards, feeling his cheeks grow hot.

Sully chuckled as Colleen teased, "Brian's got a girlfriend, Brian's got a girlfriend…" she sang, seeing her brother's eyes widen, as he stumbled back to his seat.

"I do not… she… ain't my girlfriend…" He tried to look suitably mortified.

"Leave him alone… poor boy…" Michaela smiled softly, as Brian forced himself to return to the checkers game, although his mind was still reliving that kiss… over and over…

"Michaela, we'd best be leaving…" Rebecca changed the subject swiftly, everyone getting to their feet and moving out through the entrance hall, to the large, black buggy.

**X.O.X**

Michaela and Rebecca were the last to climb down from the buggy, Sully and Matthew helping each of them respectively.

"Hey… Boston to St. Louis… ain't that us?" Colleen frowned, hearing the nearby conductor's calls.

"We're still supposed to have twenty minutes…" Michaela frowned, as Sully quickly darted off to check.

"No… it's us… we gotta go…" He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the five tickets he'd purchased the day before, seeing the panic appear immediately on Michaela's face.

"Michaela… perhaps it's best… it's all right, you don't need to say anything. We will keep in touch… and I'll make sure Marjorie keeps her mouth shut…" Rebecca moved forwards to clutch her youngest sister tightly, Michaela feeling the tears stream from her cheeks the moment her chin rested on Rebecca's shoulder.

"Yes… we'll keep in touch… Rebecca… I… don't know how to thank you…" Michaela whispered awkwardly, as Matthew and Sully hailed a porter to see to it that their luggage was promptly loaded.

"Ssh… don't worry about that… I love you… I'm so proud of you… and I'd do anything for you, Michaela… you just take care of yourself…" Rebecca forced herself to pull away.

"Don't you worry, Mrs. Dickenson… we're all gonna be making sure she does…" He reached from Michaela's elbow, as she struggled to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"You're a good man, Sully…" Rebecca reached forwards to take his hand. Delicately, he kissed it. Matthew, Brian and Colleen hugged their aunt very quickly, as they rushed ahead inside the station.

"I love you, Becca…" Michaela reached forwards to grab her sister's hand again, knowing she didn't want to let go.

"Michaela… we have to go…" Sully brought his right hand to her back, squeezing her shoulder consolingly; he could see the agony on her face.

"I… know…" Michaela swallowed, as Rebecca pulled away, also having tears in her eyes.

"Write…" she smiled brightly as Sully succeeded in directing Michaela towards the station behind them.

Michaela kept her eyes locked with her sister's, feeling her feet move under her as Sully led her further and further away.

"Be alright, Michaela… she can come visit… we have to go…" He paused for only a moment whilst she collected herself.

"Sully… she saved me… she…" Michaela looked back, as Rebecca settled herself in the buggy.

"I know. Michaela, you'll see her again soon… we need to go… now…" He turned as he saw the buggy begin moving slowly away.

She nodded and turned, a lot more focused as they moved quickly through the station, catching up with the children who were boarding the final carriage.

Michaela looked at the deep metal steps leading up to the carriage and reached for the edge of her skirt, drawing an energizing breath.

"Ma…" Matthew offered his right arm down to her. She passed the large medical bag up to him, as she felt Sully's arm around her waist.

"Thank-you…" Michaela followed Matthew inside, as he handed the porter their tickets, and Brian eagerly chose a suitable compartment, of the few that were left.

"We all set?" Sully waited until everyone had worked out their seating arrangements, before he slid the door closed, and took a seat on Michaela's right.

"Sure…" Brian grinned excitedly, as he heard the engines start, and the conductor's whistle blowing shrilly. He knelt up against the window, watching as they slowly began moving.

"We _all_ set?" Sully repeated, nudging Michaela very gently.

Matthew and Colleen, who sat opposite, exchanged nervous glances

Michaela glanced downwards, still struggling to believe the turn of events. Slowly, she looked back up towards him. "Let's go home…"

**X.O.X**

"Afternoon, Ingrid…" Dorothy looked up, as the young girl paced aimlessly around the store, admiring some of the new stock Loren had got in the previous week.

"Oh, afternoon Miss Dorothy… you be well?" she looked up with a genuine smile.

"Well, yes… had a bit of a cough, but nothin' that won't wait for a few weeks…" Dorothy closed the cash box on the counter, and crossed the floor to Ingrid's side, the shop being relatively quiet.

"Miss Dorothy… about what you say last week… what if Dr. Mike don't come back?" she carefully placed the thick scarf back on the shelf, as Dorothy tidied some nearby stock.

"She'll be back… I'm sure of it." Dorothy smiled, watching the sadness on the young girl's face, "You must be missing Matthew…"

"Yes… he only been gone a week now… but… still feel like long time…" Ingrid dropped her gaze and shrugged, "Maybe me just be selfish… he need to be with his family…"

Dorothy placed the small bags of seeds back on the shelf and turned to Ingrid. "Oh, no dear… I don't think that is one bit selfish… his is your fiancée…"

"And we still not know when we be married… he keep saying when he finished the house… but… it take so long… we still save… but still seem like be years…" she placed the floral bonnet back, about to leave.

"I know, sweetheart… and now… with all this trouble… it might be even longer…" Dorothy walked slowly across the empty store with Ingrid.

"Why you say this?" she frowned.

"Well… once Dr. Mike comes home… Matthew will need to spend a lot of time with the family… it will all be very difficult." Dorothy backed away slightly, seeing the disheartened cringe sweep over the girl's pale face.

"You say… we not get married? You say he want to wait longer, now?" She swallowed, grasping the sides of her dress worriedly.

"I really don't know, Ingrid… but you mustn't pressure him… if he feels he needs to be close to the family and stay at home, then that is what he needs to do." Dorothy looked at the girl seriously, trying to soften the impact of her words.

"But what about Sully? He not be there? Why Matthew have to be the one to take care of everyone? Dr. Mike not want to marry Sully anymore?" Ingrid tried to make sense of the earth shattering development.

"I shouldn't think so, Ingrid. I'd reckon marriage would be the last thing on Michaela's mind at the moment," Dorothy speculated, the young girl nodding, trying desperately to turn her self pity into concern.

"I… I talk to Matthew when he come home…" She looked down as Dorothy gripped her right arm tightly.

"But, dear, you can't… you can't force that poor boy to choose. Now, you listen to me, Ingrid. If Dr. Mike comes home with the children… you can't let Matthew feel guilty about not bein' able to get married… just gonna make it harder for him to do what is right; stay and support Dr. Mike," Dorothy instructed coldly.

"I… you be sure about this, Miss Dorothy? I love Matthew, I not want to make it hard for him." Ingrid clasped her hands in front of her tightly.

"I am sure, Ingrid. You mustn't put any pressure on him." Dorothy backed off immediately, sensing the young girl may have an asthma attack if distressed further.

"I… I go now…" Ingrid frowned again, and moved towards the door.

"All right, dear… good day…" She smiled lightly, as Ingrid slowly and forlornly stepped out onto the porch and walked away down the main street.

**X.O.X**

It was late in the afternoon, almost supper time. They had been traveling for over six hours, Brian and Colleen dozing occasionally. Michaela, however, had been far less settled, barely staying seated for more than twenty minutes at a time. The fourth time she left the compartment, Matthew and Sully met eyes.

"Something wrong with her?" Matthew barely moved, his sister asleep against his shoulder.

"Don't think so; think she's just uncomfortable…" Sully reassured, once Michaela was out of earshot.

"Guess so…" Matthew paused, glancing between each of his sleeping siblings. "You… actually thought about… how we're gonna handle the town? I mean… she steps outa that stage Monday... and… well I really don't know how much I trust Hank."

Sully considered Matthew's point. "Well… there's nothing we can actually _do_, 'sides support her… just gotta trust even Hank wouldn't be that cruel."

"Well, what about… wirin' ahead or something?" Matthew suggested.

"I dunno… reckon that's up to ya Ma. Might just make it worse, everyone'll be waitin' then. That's the last thing she needs…" Sully looked out through the compartment door, ensuring Michaela was nowhere in sight.

"Yeah…" Matthew agreed. "Sully… you really think this town's… strong enough for somethin' like this? I mean… know it'll be better than Boston, but still… people gonna feel real awkward." He moved his sister's arm gently back onto her lap, smiling as Brian remained snugly curled up next to Sully.

"I know…" he muttered softly, looking back down the hallway. "You think I wish this never happened… 'course I do… none of us, especially ya Ma, wanted things to turn out this way… but… we're past that… gotta move on… and ya Ma has to mean more to all a us, than the town… no matter what, Matthew." Sully kept his hand rested soothingly on Brian's back.

"I… just don't want no-one hurtin' her… she… she's really hurtin'… we can all see that… and havin' to deal with some a the less… tactful… people in this town… just worried it'll be too hard for her…" Matthew ran a hand through his neatly combed back hair, as he shook his head and sighed.

"No-one's sayin' this is gonna be easy… not for a minute… We just gotta trust that enough people will understand… Olive, Dorothy, Grace, Robert E., Myra and Horace… those sorta people… and… give ya Ma time to feel comfortable again… if she wants to stay around the homestead for a few weeks… then… we gotta let her… she'll come 'round… she's strong." Sully ran his hand over the young child's soft, blond hair, the boy's head on his thigh.

"And… then what? Still can barely get my head around this… where's she gonna go to… have the baby… and… then, she gonna keep it? What?" Matthew let the air out of his lungs in an exasperated huff of confusion.

"Whoa…" Sully raised his arm, "Ya getting yaself all worked up… don't gotta think about all that yet… ya Ma'll decide… later on… got plenty a time to settle in, let things calm down…"

"Yeah… just seems… well… I can understand why she left, is all." Matthew muttered quietly.

"So can I…" Sully looked down at the sleeping boy on his lap, not expecting Matthew to continue.

"Sully… know it's none a my business… but… you and Dr. Mike… she still mad at ya?" Matthew felt Colleen begin to stir next to him.

"No… I don't think she is, Matthew… I think we're fine…" Sully gazed out of the window, remembering the drawn-out kiss they'd shared the day before.

"Good… that's somethin', at least… what 'bout… ah… did you ask her?" Matthew raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

Sully frowned, uncomfortably, remembering the fury in Michaela's voice. "Yes, Matthew… I mentioned it… it didn't go down well, but I mentioned it. She knows, all right?" Sully looked in frustration from the passing countryside down to the young boy.

"She said 'no'?" he replied, his mouth opening in surprise, as Colleen woke up more fully.

"In a word, yes… but, at least she knows it's an option…" Sully changed the subject abruptly, "Nice nap, Colleen?"

"Hmm…" she rubbed her eyes with a nod and looked around. "Where's Dr. Mike?"

Both Sully and Matthew shrugged. Colleen arrived to her feet hurriedly.

"Well, if it's all right with both of you, I'd prefer to know where she is…" Colleen shook her head, still not completely trusting her mother.

"Colleen, she's just restless… probably just walkin' around…" Sully objected.

"Then she might want some company…" she smiled pleasantly, sliding the glass door open and leaving the small compartment.


	85. Chapter 85

**Chapter 85**

Colleen yawned and smoothed out her dress, as she paced from their compartment, to the end of the narrow hallway. She finally located Michaela by the door.

"You all right, Dr. Mike?" she smiled tentatively, and arrived next to her.

Michaela looked up from her daydream, slipping her hand from her stomach, and moving away from the wall she'd been leaning against. "I'm fine… just cramped…"

"I'll bet…" Colleen smiled hesitantly. She moved her gaze quickly from her mother's abdomen, glancing out of the window, as her right hand idly held onto the new ruby pendant around her neck.

Michaela watched the awkwardness play on the girl's face, and cautiously slipped a hand to her shoulder. "Colleen… it's all right," she whispered calmly.

The young girl flinched slightly, "No it ain't…" Colleen hung her head. "I've been so awful to you… I… I'm sorry…"

"I understand… and I don't blame you…" Michaela squeezed her daughter's shoulder softly, as Colleen slowly raised her head.

"You don't? But… I… I was bein' cruel… and… speaking out of line… without caring whether I hurt your feelings or not…" Colleen admitted honestly.

"You were angered by my actions… angry with me… we all say things we don't mean when we're upset," Michaela gently moved her arm around the girl's back, drawing her to her side. "It's all right…"

Colleen accepted the embrace and brought her left arm around Michaela's waist. "I…" she paused, realizing she needed to be truthful, "I guess, I was just… disappointed. I thought you would feel the same as me…"

"I do, Colleen…" Michaela kissed the side of her head tenderly. She realized the courage it had taken the girl to speak so candidly.

"Then, how could you…?" she spoke neutrally, in a hushed tone.

"I panicked. I was more worried about what people would think and expect, than of what I knew was right…" she felt Colleen's hand tighten warmly around her left hip.

"Still… I had no right… it weren't me that had to deal with the consequences… I… I just… didn't think we'd ever disagree on something… so… serious… Guess I didn't want to think you weren't perfect…" Colleen's voice was low, that final sentence being the one she considered to have influenced her attitude the most.

"No-one's perfect, Colleen…" Michaela smiled, hugging the girl closer with a small chuckle.

"But you were always so… sure of yourself, your opinions. Of what was right and wrong. But then… everything changed and you weren't that same person… and I hated you for not being as strong as you always were," she looked up at Michaela honestly, "I got so mad at you… and it was selfish. Was just coz I felt let down."

"Thank-you for telling me the truth, sweetheart. I'm sorry I confused you like that… You were right, I wasn't the same person… I probably knew it too, deep down…" Michaela reflected. Both kept their eyes focused on the passing scenery, until Colleen eventually broke the silence.

"Ma… Maybe I shoulda told you before… but… didn't wanna upset you. When you were sick… I was really scared and… I suppose… I didn't understand why everyone just… seemed to forget about it all. I do now." Colleen looked away.

Michaela stroked the girl's shoulder-length blond hair, forcing herself to remember the time Colleen was referring to. For Michaela, though, there were only fragments of consciousness. She could remember being carried, she could hear Dorothy's voice. Beyond that, it was mostly darkness.

"I owe you an apology also. I've asked things that were unforgivable these last few months… I asked you to lie, to keep secrets… none of that was right. I forced you to take on responsibilities that were my own… and for that, I'm sorry…" Michaela locked eyes with the young girl once again, both reading the sincerity and remorse in the other's gaze.

"It… just weren't like you… I felt like what happened, changed who you were… in so many ways… and I was angry. But, instead a bein' angry at who I oughta be… I got angry at you… I wish I coulda been stronger… like Sully. Wish I could have known how to help better…" Colleen concluded, Michaela pulling away slightly to take her hands.

"Colleen, nothing you did or didn't do, or say, would have changed any of this… and, I honestly don't think Sully knowing would have made a difference. In the end, it was something I had to come to terms with for myself… I had to have the chance to choose, because I hadn't before. And I've made that choice now. I know I will make it through this… because I have all of you, because we are together," Michaela held the girl's hands lightly in her own.

"Ma?" Colleen whispered, waiting for Michaela to look back up at her. "Will you… tell me the truth... I mean… if I promise not to get angry at you…" She turned her head slightly.

"The truth?" Michaela shrugged, not following her.

"I just mean… I don't want anything else to… go wrong… I don't wanna feel the way I have, ever again. You don't have to worry about upsettin' me, or scarin' me… but will you always be honest with me?" Colleen frowned, seeing the uncertain look in her mother's eyes.

"I, don't…?" Michaela shook her head, not understanding Colleen's words.

"Just mean… don't go disappearin' again like that… and don't…" the tone of her voice increased slightly, "… keep stuff from me…"

Michaela narrowed her eyes as she spoke, "Colleen, I promise, I'm not going anywhere… but, I won't promise to never protect you from the world… I will try to be as honest as I can… but there are going to be times… when I can't… and that's just how it has to be…" Michaela knew it was not the answer the young girl was expecting, however, Michaela also knew there would be some truths she would never be sharing with her daughter.

"But how can I trust you when you're not honest with me?" Colleen pulled away slightly, beginning to feel nervous.

"There's a difference between honesty and… protection, Colleen. I will always try to be honest, in as much as that I will never directly lie to you again… but there are still some things that we will probably never talk about…" Michaela tried to think up a suitable analogy, "I'm sure there are things you talk about with Becky… that you don't share with me?" she ventured, raising an eyebrow, trying to alleviate the tension.

Colleen smiled, covering her mouth with her hand lightly, "Well, yeah…" she looked away quickly, cheeks reddening.

"Exactly." Michaela smiled and nudged Colleen playfully, the young girl dissolving into self-conscious giggles.

Colleen gradually regained her composure and hastily changed the subject, "You gonna come back and sit with us, or want me to stay?" she smiled caringly.

"I'm going to stay here a little longer, Colleen… I can tolerate the swollen ankles more than the back pain…" Michaela rolled her eyes as Colleen looked awkwardly down the corridor.

"Go on…" Michaela patted her arm softly, Colleen looking back towards her for a moment.

"I'll go get Sully…" She smiled and disappeared back to their compartment.

**X.O.X**

**Friday, 15****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"What time you reckon they'll have breakfast?" Brian sat up, looking around the motionless compartment.

"Ssh… everyone's still sleepin'…" Sully whispered, putting his finger to his lips.

Brian frowned, and looked around; Matthew and Colleen were sleeping leaned up against each other, Michaela had eventually managed to sleep, curled up on the other bench. Brian and Sully had opted for the far more spacious, if less comfortable, carpeted floor.

"What time is it?" Brian crawled out from under Michaela's cloak, which had been sacrificed for a blanket, over to Sully.

"Still early, Brian… go back to sleep…" Sully rested his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Ain't tired…" Brian replied immediately.

Sully sighed without making a sound and looked up across the small space. Brian had been the first to fall asleep the night before, and Sully knew Matthew and Colleen had taken another half an hour or so. He and Michaela had talked in hushed voices long into the night, until she'd finally been able to drift off out of pure exhaustion.

"Come on," he gestured towards the sliding door, opening it very quietly, as both he and Brian slipped through.

"Brian, ya gotta be quiet, everyone else's still sleepin' too…" Sully kept his voice low, as they moved down the corridor. At the exact same moment, a baby nearby chose to start screaming. _Oh well…_ Sully smiled, as Brian looked at him with a cheeky grin.

"Do I still gotta be quiet now?" He spoke, teasingly.

"Yeah," Sully ruffled his hair, as they arrived to the end of the compartments, taking seats on the small bench by the door.

"Sully?" Brian raised his voice appropriately.

"Hmm?" He turned to face him, "Brian if this is about your stomach…" Sully teased.

"No, not mine…" the child paused, "reckon I'll get a baby brother or sister?" He gestured back with his right hand towards the corridor.

"Uh… I dunno, Brian… that's something ya won't know for awhile…" Sully swallowed, Brian's question only reaffirming the reality that lay ahead.

"Well… I was really hopin' for a baby brother… otherwise, Colleen and Ma'll just be puttin' her in little ribbons… and dresses, makin' her look all silly like Penny… Do ya reckon, if I pray for a baby brother that'd help?" Brian smiled, looking hopeful.

Sully tapped his palms anxiously against his knees, looking around for any possible distraction. Nothing. He sighed, reaching his left arm around Brian's small shoulders.

"Brian… we gotta have a talk," Sully nodded, running his tongue over his teeth. He searched desperately for inspiration.

"What about?" Brian frowned, leaning against Sully worriedly.

"Well… about ya Ma havin' this baby… about what that's gonna mean… about…" he swallowed, realizing he was only tip-toeing around the issue. "Brian… well… you know that it takes two people… to create a baby, don't ya…?" Sully ran his hands down his face, glancing briefly out at the sun-rise through the glass window of the door to his right. _God, this is hard._

"Yeah… the Ma and the Pa…" Brian shrugged, not understanding the apprehension in Sully's pained expression.

"Brian…" he paused, glancing around, tapping his foot lightly on the ground. _Let him work it out for herself, gotta let him figure it out._ "Brian… did you think… there was anything… odd… about findin' out ya Ma was gonna have a baby?" Sully chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip, watching as the young boy considered the question.

"Well… she didn't tell no-one… then on the train, I asked her why she didn't tell ya… but she wouldn't tell me… then I said, why didn't ya just get married… _but_ she said I was too young to understand…" Brian prattled off innocently.

Sully dropped his hands tiredly to his knees. _No wonder Michaela ended up in such a state, facing questions like this every five minutes… I wish I'd known._

Sully pulled himself back to the current conversation, replaying the child's final words over in his head to catch up.

"Right, ah… well… all right Brian, why do you think ya Ma and I should get married?" _I know exactly why he thinks we should get married… oh, why do I have to tell him this… No, I have to be honest… everyone else is gonna know in a few days… I have to prepare him._

"Well, coz then no-one would have to know about the baby 'til after you were married and it wouldn't be a bad thing." Brian gestured with the palm of his right hand upturned, thinking Sully's question was rather obvious.

"Why would it be a bad thing if we weren't married?" Sully continued, crossing his arms tightly against his chest.

Brian considered the question, his face dissolving into a frown; "Because ya can't have a baby if ya not married…"

"Why not?" Sully forced himself to keep his expression neutral and curious as to the child's answers, determined to not let Brian feel the tension and worry he was experiencing.

"Because… because… that's just how it works… the man marries the lady and then they become the Ma and Pa…" the little boy explained proudly, pausing for a moment with an innocent thought, "Sully… didn't ya know all this?"

"Oh… I know, Brian, I know." _Believe me, I know… _He kept his tone fluid and ensured it did not sound condescending.

Brian however, was becoming slightly more frustrated with the circular discussion. "Well then, if ya know… then why ya askin'? If ya know, then how come Ma's havin' the baby before ya got married… why didn't ya get married first?" Brian turned to his right on the bench, tucking his right foot up under his left knee, trying to get more comfortable.

"Because… I'm _not_ the Pa, Brian…" _There. I've said it, I can't unsay it._ Sully sighed, awaiting the child's reaction intently. _I had to say it._

"What…? But…" his voice was high-pitched, his little face dropped. "But… Ma said you were gonna be our Pa… I don't understand… you're not going to be our Pa?" Sully could see the whites of the little boy's eyeballs, his eyebrows having dropped into fierce concern.

"I don't know, Brian… but the thing you needa understand is, I'm not the _baby's_ Pa…" Sully patted Brian's back comfortingly as he spoke. The mere words passing through his lips were enough to invoke torturous images in his mind.

The little boy's smooth, cream-colored cheeks reddened slightly and he sat up with an alarming thought, "Then… is… Ma gonna marry someone else?" His pure, blue eyes searched Sully's face for an immediate answer.

"No, Brian…" Sully whispered, the child blinking once, before quickly launching into another worried question.

"Well... if you're not the Pa… then… then… is Ma gonna marry the baby's Pa?"

"No, Brian…" _All right, time to put a stop to this…_ Sully cleared his throat and turned slightly, so that he was facing the boy more directly. "Brian… ssh… all right… Now I gotta explain something to you very carefully here… You remember… back when the Indians took ya Ma?" Sully kept his left arm tightly around the boy's shoulders, drawing him closer to him.

"Yeah… when you fell off the cliff…" he replied with a shrug.

"Right… and ya Ma got hurt… did… did Miss Dorothy tell you about that?" Sully watched the concern begin to drop from the boy's face, as he struggled to remember clearly.

"She did, a bit… but she didn't make much sense… Matthew said… he said somethin' about kissing without permission… and Miss Dorothy used this weird word… rope?" He frowned in concentration.

"Rape, Brian…" Sully dropped his eyes closed for a drawn-out moment. However the view behind his closed eyelids, of the afternoon he and Cloud Dancing had found the dog soldier's camp, was far worse. Opening them with an inaudible gasp, Sully forced himself to focus on the boy's reply.

"Yeah… and he said it's when a man kisses a lady… but she doesn't want him to…" Brian clasped his hands in his lap, having stated the definition with more assertiveness than he had when talking with Matthew months earlier.

"Well, that's kind of it… Brian… You don't have to _tell_ me about it… but ya Ma told you how babies are made, didn't she?" Sully patted his shoulder lightly, as Brian looked up at him.

"Yeah… the Pa puts the baby into the special sac… and then it grows 'til it's born" Brian squinted, remembering the medical textbook.

"Brian, do you think… you could understand… well… what if a man… did that… and the woman didn't want the baby?" _That's better… man, woman… just keep it general, don't think… do not think…_

"So rape is giving a woman a baby when she doesn't want it?" The small boy turned his right hand over, questioningly.

"Well, no, because… people don't always know if a baby is gonna happen or not… I thought you knew about the birds and the bees?" Sully moved slightly on the bench, slipping his arm from Brian's shoulder.

"Yeah… the Pa puts the baby into the Ma… and then it stays inside her 'til it's big enough to be born…" Brian nodded confidently.

Sully sighed, letting his eyes drop closed momentarily. He knew Brian was missing a few of the finer details, however, all things considered, that probably didn't matter right at the moment. "That's pretty much it, Brian. The baby stays inside the Ma for a long time," Sully sighed, appreciating for the first time, how contaminated Michaela must be feeling.

"Yeah… and makes her get really big… coz it gets big inside her…" he giggled.

"Yeah…" Sully nodded.

"So Ma didn't know she was gonna have a baby either?" Brian's eyebrows raised innocently.

"No, Brian… not for a long time…" _Longer than it should have been at any rate._

"Sully… was this how Ma got hurt? When Colleen tried to make her wake up… and Dr. Cassidy came… is that why she had blood… on her legs… because of the baby?"

"Well, I… I suppose so, Brian…" his voice trailed off, only able to imagine the horrors the little boy had witnessed.

"So… the baby's Pa is… one of the bad Indians?" his voice wavered with childlike uncertainty.

"Yes, Brian…"

"And… and…" he stammered, concocting a traumatic, childlike image in his mind, "he… hurt Ma… by putting the baby into her… and… that's what all the blood was?" His chin trembled, eyes huge with mortification.

Sully swallowed, feeling nauseated by the boy's innocent, yet intelligent depiction. He merely nodded.

Brian turned away, his mind working quickly. When he looked back up at Sully, his voice was hollow, fingers interlocked tightly, "Ma's gonna have an Indian baby!?"

Sully clasped the boy's shoulder again with a depersonalized affirming nod. "Does that… make sense, Brian?" he kept his eyes focused deliberately on the child's.

"I… guess so… I… Sully… is she gonna have to give the baby to Cloud Dancing?" Still, the cogs in his mind were turning.

"No, Brian…" He smiled and stated very clearly. "It's her baby…" The little boy relaxed slowly. "But, do you understand now, why ya Ma ain't happy like Miss Myra is? That… it's not the same, because she didn't want the baby?"

"That why she was seein' all the doctors in Boston? To see if they could make the baby go away?" He dropped his head again, remembering his mother's chaotic emotions.

"Exactly, Brian… but… that has to be a secret. Only the five of us and Miss Olive know about that, all right?" Sully waited until the boy had looked back up at him. He nodded, until Brian had taken in the seriousness of his statement.

"Yeah, I won't say nothin'… Is that what the operation was gonna be?" Brian deduced quickly.

"Yes, Brian…"

"I'm glad she didn't have it." He let his face drop into a relieved grin.

"So am I…" Sully wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders once again, as Brian snuggled back next to him.

"Hey Sully?" Brian looked up at him.

"Yup?" Sully smiled.

"Do ya think… well… Ma could pretend you were the baby's Pa? Then she wouldn't have to be so sad?" The little boy's eyes softened, pleadingly.

Sully rubbed his back, his smile spreading at the child's compassion. "It doesn't work like that, I'm afraid, Brian." Sully locked eyes with the child, "But does that make things easier for you to understand, now? That ya Ma is really, really upset at the moment… and she's findin' it difficult to love the baby?"

"Yeah… coz it came from somethin' bad… not like when you're married." Brian pursed his lips, gradually gaining confidence in his assumptions.

"That's right, Brian. When two people are married and they make a baby together, they love it because they love the person they made it with," Sully's eyes lowered, as he remembered the moment Abigail had told him she was expecting their first child.

"I know… and the bad Indian hurt Ma… and so it reminds her of when she got hurt?" Brian muttered solemnly, with an acquired maturity and understanding.

"Exactly," Sully confirmed.

"Sully?" Brian waited until he looked back to him, before continuing, "Will Ma always hate the baby?" His voice was dejected.

"I hope not, Brian. I hope she'll be able to love the baby, because it's a part of her… but we gotta let her realize that on her own, all right?" Sully moved his arm from the boy's back, up his neck, to slowly run his fingers through his fair hair.

"Maybe she'll learn to love it… like us?" Brian turned, a hopeful smile appearing on his face.

"Maybe she will." Sully rested his hand on the top of the child's head, Brian leaning further into his chest, as they watched the sun continue to rise through the window.

**X.O.X**

"Don't reckon I could do this too often… start to feel sick eatin' and moving like this…" Matthew glared down at the food on his plate unappetizingly.

"Well, I reckon it's romantic… just sittin' here… eatin' lunch like normal… but ya look out… and everythin's movin' so fast… it's amazin'." Colleen smiled nostalgically.

"I dunno, Colleen… think Matthew has a point… maybe we aren't meant to eat… sleep… while we're movin'…" Sully shrugged, considering Matthew's statement.

"Sully, don't be ridiculous… you can hardly feel that we're moving… Besides, you sleep in the wagon…" Michaela raised an eyebrow, determined to quash such nonsensical conversation.

"When have I…" he grinned, "'least not when I'm drivin'…" He quickly arrived back to his view, "Ain't the same… ain't movin' _this_ fast." Sully retorted.

"Well, sometimes in the wagon, if it's really bumpy, I feel sick…" Brian looked up, eager to contribute to the discussion.

"Yeah… if Dr. Mike's drivin'…" Matthew chuckled, placing his knife and fork neatly together in the center of his plate.

Colleen buried her mouth in her hands, unable to hide her giggles. Her brother had a very valid point.

"Excuse me! I happen to think it depends on Bear's… mood…" Michaela stated crisply.

"Mood… what mood? Horses don't have moods…" Sully folded his arms, enjoying watching Michaela's determination at defending her driving abilities.

"He does… why some days he's more…cantankerous, and he'll…" Michaela rolled her eyes, and dissolved into an amused sigh. "Are we really talking about a horse?"

"Sorry… that was my fault," Matthew apologized quickly, everyone gradually finishing their lunches.

The table became quiet, Colleen looking towards Brian to start conversation.

"So, Brian… ah… you and Penny gonna keep in contact?" Colleen smirked, the little boy blushing slightly.

"I… I dunno…" he turned away, embarrassed.

Colleen bit her lower lip, glaring at Matthew, who also struggled to make conversation.

"Dr. Mike? When… we get home… can you pierce my ears?" she asked eventually, having run out of other options.

Michaela looked up from the last piece of carrot she was about to eat, her reply quick and confident.

"Of course… if that's what you want?" she slipped the food into her mouth, as Sully placed his napkin onto the corner of the small table.

"Yeah… reckon Lew… ah, Becky'll like 'em…" she caught herself quickly, again touching the ruby pendant around her neck, as the waiter approached the table.

"Thank-you…" Michaela looked up with a smile, as she placed her cutlery together on her plate, the well-groomed, young waiter quickly beginning to pile the plates together.

"Might you like a hot beverage, sir?" he enquired politely.

"Ah… some coffee'd be great… thank-you…" Sully cleared his throat, trying to sound as dignified as possible.

"Of course… and for your wife?" the young waiter balanced the assortment of plates in his left hand.

Sully turned to Michaela, with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh… nothing, thank-you…" Michaela looked away quickly.

"Can I have hot cocoa?" Brian looked up, oblivious to the subtle awkwardness that had just taken place.

"Michaela?" Sully shrugged lightly.

"Yes, you _may_, Brian…" Michaela subtly corrected him, "Thank-you…" she turned her gaze back towards the waiter with an affirming nod.

"Thanks, Ma…" the little boy smiled genuinely, Colleen and Matthew locking eyes over his head.

The waiter promptly left the table and again, the uncomfortable silence ensured.

**X.O.X**

Colleen waited until she and Matthew were walking back towards their compartment, trailing behind Michaela, Sully and Brian.

"Did you hear that?" she muttered, brushing his arm to gain his attention.

"What?" Matthew shrugged, pausing, so they could fall several steps further behind their family.

"What the waiter said…" she tilted her head suggestively.

Matthew merely shook his head.

"Ya know…?" Colleen prompted, dropping her voice significantly, "… about Dr. Mike bein' Sully's 'wife'…"

"She didn't even react to it… so what?" Matthew frowned, thinking Colleen was making too much of it.

"Exactly." Colleen stated clearly. "She didn't react… ordinarily, she woulda taken great delight in correcting someone… but… she didn't even react…"

"What you gettin' at?" Matthew hesitated with a frown, as they slipped further back from Michaela, Sully and Brian.

"Just _that_… think it's bothering her?" Colleen pressed.

"Colleen, I dunno. What does it matter?"

"Forget it… I…" she waved her right hand to shrug off the conversation.

Matthew waited, before leaning closer towards her. "Look… don't go sayin' nothin'… but… Sully and I already talked about this stuff… I said he should ask her to marry him… to make it easier… he… said he did…" He looked ahead towards Sully and Michael who were several yards ahead of them.

"And she turned him down?" Colleen's eyes widened in shock.

"Guess so… he said it didn't go well…" Matthew shrugged.

"Maybe… once we get back home… she'll realize it's for the best." Colleen considered, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully.

Both siblings looked up; when Brian's childlike voice was heard.

"What's for the best?" he asked inquisitively.

"Nothin'… hey… you wanna find out if we can go see the engineer later on?" Matthew bent down to Brian's level.

"Sure…" the boy quickly disregarded the overheard utterance and nodded vigorously.

"Well, come on…" Matthew patted his back, as Brian turned back up towards the front of the train.

"Have fun…" Colleen smiled half-heartedly, as she followed Sully and Michaela back to the compartment, her brothers moving away up the corridor.

Matthew silently rolled his eyes, although encouraged his little brother on ahead.

**X.O.X**

The small compartment was peacefully silent, with the exception of the occasional cough or movement and the monotonous chugging of the train.

Sully remained awake, settled on his back, with his arms rested behind his neck. He stared through the large glass window across from him, watching the almost imperceptible movement of the stars against the night sky.

It was late. He guessed nearly midnight. Everyone had kept to themselves that day; Matthew taking Brian to see the engineer, Colleen beginning to re-read the book Rebecca had given her, reading excerpts to Michaela every so often.

Sully had hovered between the boys, Michaela and Colleen. Brian occasionally enlightened them with some of the fun experiences he'd had with Penelope, Matthew whispering the odd word of concern for his mother, when he knew they were alone.

Sully had been unable to ignore the tension that had existed, however. As much as everyone tried to make pleasant conversation and promote a light-hearted atmosphere, they had all known it was a pretense. Michaela had been the quietest one of all, only speaking when it was absolutely necessary, or when she was addressed.

Sully glanced away from the starry sky, rotating his neck to the left, until he was able to see her sleeping form on the bench nearby. Her face was illuminated slightly by the moonlight that passed through the window.

It was far from the first time he'd watched her sleep. There had been many times; which she'd been gravely ill with the Grippe two years ago, when she'd passed out several months ago in the recovery room at the Clinic, when she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder that night on the porch. A small smile coming to his lips, Sully knew however, which time he remembered the most clearly.

He'd found the cave several hours before dawn on the Monday morning. By that stage, Michaela was barely conscious, blood seeping from her injured feet. She'd fallen asleep in his arms as soon as he'd spotted the sanctuary of the hidden enclosure. They were both saturated.

He'd tried to wake her, but after several groggy utterances, abandoned his efforts and simply settled her down on a smooth rock, whilst he gathered the pine branches and created a more comfortable resting place. Michaela had remained in a deep sleep throughout. Even when he picked her up and carefully placed her back down on the softer surface, she hadn't stirred. Propriety aside, Sully knew allowing her to sleep in damp clothes was foolish, and, when still she wouldn't wake coherently, he reached for the first button of her torn, mustard-colored blouse.

When his fingers moved to the second button, the sickening thought struck him. What if… the unwanted advances he'd witnessed the night before by the creek weren't the first? What if, he'd failed her over the past three days? He slowly undid the second button of her blouse, trying to disregard the fear. _No. She would have told me. When I first got to her. She would have told me if… _His fingers glided over the third button, checking once again that she hadn't woken. _She hasn't said anything. _Sully reflected.

He moved his hands away from her clothing, to brush his fingers over her injured cheek. _Would she have told me? What if… _He looked over her exposed flesh to notice the fresh bruise to her right upper arm. _I shouldn't…What if she's hurt… What if… _He cautiously removed his hand from her arm and touched the third button of her blouse.

_I can't do this… what if… I can't see… I don't want to see, to know… _He looked back up to her sleeping face; eyes closed out of utter exhaustion.

_But I can't leave her in wet clothes… If she gets sick… then, that would be my fault. No. I have to do this, no matter what… and… if… if they have, then… _He cleared his throat and finished unbuttoning her blouse. _Then… we'll just deal with that… _He respectfully slid the tattered garment from her shoulders, running his hands over her skin, as he rid her of the blouse. He leaned closer to inspect the various bruises on her upper arms, before moving his gaze down to see the deep bruising and burn marks around her wrists.

Very slowly, and with great reverence, Sully brought his left hand up Michaela's arm to slip the strap of her chemise back onto her shoulder. He knew he probably shouldn't be seeing her like this. He suspected she would have never permitted it. Although, as he reflected whilst rolling her over onto her right side, he'd seen her in her undergarments before. He chuckled silently, her chastising words filling his ears. A small smile came to his lips, as he remembered how uncomfortable she'd been only one year earlier.

He located the small metal clasp on the back on her brown skirt. The material was heavy with water, and clung to the equally-soaked petticoat underneath. As he gently tried to pull the weighted material away from her waist, he felt her move for the first time.

"Michaela… it's all right… just me…" He stroked her lower arm and gently moved it back across her body onto the green foliage below.

He waited until she had settled back into a heavy sleep, before reaching again for the waistband of her skirt. He managed to slide it, along with the thick petticoat along her thighs, having to carefully lift her knees, so as to remove the garments completely from her lower body.

Sully looked back up to her sleeping face, ensuring he'd not disturbed her, before gathering the three items of clothing together and spreading them out over the nearby rocks to dry.

He sat back down beside her protectively, seeing the dirt and blood which covered her feet and legs for the first time.

There were shallow grazes to her right knee and left shin, as well as dirt marring her ankles and feet in splotches.

Apart from that, she looked unharmed. Sully bit his lower lip, as he moved his eyes from her legs, up to her waist. Her undergarments did not appear torn or damaged. _That doesn't necessary mean… _He swallowed and looked down to feel the dampness of his shirt against his chest.

_No. I have to wait… I just… have to wait until I can ask her…_

Sully forced himself to stand and leave her side, quickly stripping off his thin shirt, beads and belt.

As he draped the items alongside Michaela's drying clothes, he glanced back at her a second time, noticing the sun begin to rise across the horizon.

He needed to check they hadn't been followed. He needed to find some food. Nodding quietly to himself, as he watched the sun rise, planning the tasks he needed to achieve whilst she slept, Sully turned back to see her face, lit slightly against the faint sunlight.

_I need to ask her…_

Sully wiped his tired eyes, blinking several times, as Michaela's face altered before his very eyes. He now noticed the moonlight, and the absence of any dirt or blood on her face. He reoriented himself quickly; They were on the train.


	86. Chapter 86

**Chapter 86**

Still recovering from his troubled memories, Sully continued to watch Michaela sleep, several feet across from him in the small compartment. He was about to turn away, when he noticed her brow wrinkle slightly.

He frowned, continuing to study her face. After a moment, she drew her arms back closer against her chest.

Sully hesitated, sensing where this might be heading. Silently, he sat up, as he saw both her mouth and forehead twitch.

"_No_… please… _please…_" Michaela, deeply captivated by the images behind her eyelids, murmured, her voice strained and desperate, as she drew her arms tighter against her upper body.

"Michaela…" Sully arrived to his knees instantly, crossing over to the bench, and reaching for her shoulder to wake her.

"I'm sorry… _I'm sorry_…" she pleaded, moving sharply away from his hand.

"Michaela… wake up… _Michaela_…" Sully looked around quickly, hoping she wouldn't wake the children. He saw Matthew stir first.

Turning back, he rocked her shoulder firmly, reaching his other hand to her chin, when she still didn't rouse.

"_Stop…_" she whimpered, her eyelids fluttering, as Sully turned around to see Matthew wakening instantly.

"Michaela… ssh…" Sully looked back at her, as her eyes opened, glistening with moisture against the moonlight. "Ssh… all right… it's all right… only a dream…"

"Sully?" Michaela blinked several times, eventually realizing where she was.

"Ssh…" he soothed, watching intently as she struggled to calm her breathing. He kept his hand softly against her left shoulder.

"Ma?" Matthew uttered, moving a lightly sleeping Colleen away and getting to his feet.

"It's all right, Matthew…" Sully nodded to the young man, as he arrived across the compartment behind Sully.

"You all right, Ma?" Matthew's eyes were wide with concern and sympathy.

She nodded, her gaze still trancelike, shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath. She was answering their questions, but did not appear aware of their presence.

"Be all right, Matthew… go back to…" Sully whispered, when a small rustling was heard.

"What's all the noise?" Brian announced loudly, sitting straight up and pushed the olive cape from his body.

"Ssh!" Sully placed his finger to his lips, as Matthew sat back down, Colleen jumping at the combination of movement and sound.

"Huh?" the young girl awoke from the light slumber, Matthew sighing, as now everyone was awake.

Sully drew a slow breath, before turning his head back to Michaela, noticing her continued unblinking expression. He leaned in slightly closer, seeing her chin tremble subconsciously.

"Michaela…?" He moved his hand to the back of her head, worried as she hadn't uttered a single word.

"Is Ma all right?" Brian crawled across the assortment of clothing and blankets, to pop up under Sully's right arm.

"Go back to sleep, Brian… it's fine…" Sully patted the boy's head twice, Brian, however, was not persuaded.

"Ma? Ma… did ya have another bad dream?" He reached for her left upper arm softly.

Michaela flinched instantaneously at the contact and glared at him, her jaw dropping fearfully.

"Michaela… Michaela… it's Brian… it's all right…" Sully frowned, gently prying the little boy's hand away from his mother's arm.

"Brian… need ya to go back to sleep…" Sully repeated, his tone stronger this time.

"But what about Ma?" the child spoke softly, sincerely concerned.

"She's fine… Michaela…" Sully looked back at her to notice the tears pooling in her eyes.

"Michaela… come on… let's go outside…" he rubbed her back, as Brian moved away fearfully.

She swallowed and meekly obeyed him, although still not speaking. Sully carefully pulled the heavy blanket from her back and reached for her shoulders as she sat up awkwardly, and looked around the darkened room.

"Ma?" Brian repeated, getting to his feet as Sully did likewise.

"Ssh, Brian. Michaela, let's go for a walk for a bit… Come on…" He reached for her hand and helped her to her feet, reasoning that sending her back to sleep would probably just result in a repeat of a similarly distressing experience all over again.

Matthew patted Colleen's arm lightly and beckoned Brian back towards them, as Sully led Michaela from the small room.

Once they'd arrived in the corridor, she appeared calmer, the dim light of the lanterns which lined the passageway allowed her to see Sully's face a lot clearer.

"See… everythin's all right… come on…" He touched her hand delicately, as he made his way up the narrow hallway to the bench he'd sat on with Brian only that morning.

Michaela, her composure still sluggish and reserved, sat down slowly. And for the first time that Sully had noticed, she blinked. To her left, he took a seat also.

"Don't gotta… but… help if ya told me what happened?" Sully felt his jaw tighten, pretty sure he knew _exactly _what the traumatic nightmare had been about.

He watched as Michaela's eyes dropped closed for several moments. He looked down as she clasped her hands in front of her stomach.

"It was… nothing…" she dismissed quickly, reaching up her left hand to hastily rub the tears from her eyes.

"No it weren't. Michaela… you can tell me…" he kept his voice hushed, as he leaned slightly closer.

She sighed, looking away, still clearly traumatized by the images that flooded her mind. "It was just a dream. It wasn't real…" she told herself, interlocking her fingers together in front of her once again.

"Maybe not… but… still troubled ya…" He left the statement hanging, hoping she would pick up on it.

"It was just because I'm worried… about going home… I know exactly what brought it on. I just overreacted… it's fine…" she looked between her clasped hands and Sully's nonjudgmental expression.

"I'm sorry… I didn't know you were havin' problems sleepin'…" he ventured, deciding to pull back slightly from asking her directly.

"Oh… I…" she met his concerned eyes quickly, "I'm not… it's not usual…" she reassured him quickly, both falling into a hesitant silence.

"Michaela… everything's going to be all right, you know…" he moved his arm around her back to rest his hand on her right shoulder.

"Why do you keep saying that, when you've absolutely no idea. You can't promise that…" She moved slightly under the weight of his hand, however did not recoil from the contact.

"Because… no matter what _does_ happen… I know everything _will_ be all right. Ain't sayin' I trust everyone… but I trust Olive… and Horace… Myra. Even reckon Loren'll understand…" He paused, reflecting on the conversation he'd had with the store owner several weeks ago.

"Sully…" she drew a noisy breath, "they… they didn't understand…"

"What do you mean?" He moved closer to her left side.

"In the dream… they…" her eyes clouded with fresh tears.

"Michaela, tell me. What do you mean they didn't understand?" His eyes searched desperately to catch her flickering gaze.

"They thought it was my fault… the Reverend… Dorothy…" her chin trembled as a solitary tear trickled down her left cheek. "Brian…"

"Brian?... I… I don't… Brian understands, Michaela." His eyes narrowed.

She looked away, her head tilting forwards, as she forced the lump from her throat.

"The Reverend… said it was my fault… that I couldn't have become pregnant if I'd not wanted to… and… they believed him. Everyone… the children… _everyone_…" Michaela's shoulders dropped, as she turned her head subtly to see his hand still there.

Sully shook his head, his left hand moving to stroke her arm softly. "Ain't true…" he whispered almost inaudibly.

"They said I was a whore… and that they didn't want me there…" She could see the perfectly clear faces in her mind's eye, as clearly as if the individuals were standing right before her. "They… threw… rocks at me… They said awful things… that… I was going to… burn in hell… for sinning against God… and Dorothy said… that I deserved to be punished… and… that's when the Reverend…" she trailed off, gradually regulating her breathing after several moments. "I… know it was only a dream… that it's not real." She paused, still feeling the stones hit her chest, her back, her stomach. "… but when they all started… and I tried to turn around. I saw… Brian… and… he said he hated me… and I couldn't move… I could just _feel_… they were hitting me from every direction… and I couldn't stop it… I couldn't…" By that stage Sully had managed to wrap both his arms securely around her front and shoulders. He could feel her shoulder pressing painfully into his chest, but he didn't care.

"Michaela, I swear to you… that is never going to happen…" He moved his right hand up to cradle the back of her head, as she collapsed her head against his shoulder.

"But it was so real, Sully…" she sobbed, feeling the cool tears run along her jaw line.

"I know… nightmares are…" He dropped his eyes closed, remembering with painful detail the one he'd had only two days earlier.

"And… I kept trying to say I was sorry… but… they didn't care… and," she caught her breath in a small hiccup, wiping the tears furiously from her cheeks.

"Ssh… listen to me. That is _not_ going to happen… Olive already knows… and she's been supportive… and you know good people will be… Grace… Myra. I know you're scared… but I ain't gonna let no-one hurt you…" He ran his fingertips along a fine strand of loose hair on her shoulder, "… and… if it's too much… you don't gotta be around people… no-one's sayin' you have to act like everythin's normal. If you needa spend some time away from town… then…"

"I know, I know…" she muttered quickly, lifting her head from his shoulder.

"Then… stop frettin' 'bout it… trust me. Trust ya children… we're not gonna let people hurt ya…" Sully reassured, as slowly and empathically as he could.

Michaela cringed uncomfortably and glanced away, moving her shoulders backwards in a frustrated attempt to get comfortable.

"I… always tried to do the right thing, Sully. Not that people thought everything I did was right… but…" Michaela sighed, a reflective smile crossing her face as she leaned back against the bench. "Charlotte phrased it suitably, when she said I had enough black marks against my name to last a lifetime. And… I guess she was right. I…" she squirmed away from the wall, propping her right hand between her lower back and the padded wooden backing of the bench. "I tried, Sully. Even if people didn't agree with me… support me… I always tried to… hold myself to… an unwritten…" she searched for the right word, struggling to conceal the building discomfort radiating from her lower back, "… code… I know my mother, my sisters never approved of my schooling… but that was still… an acceptable choice for me to make…" she dropped her eyes closed, rolling her shoulders back in pain. "Sorry… I'm not making any sense…"

"Ya all right?" Sully had noticed her stilted movements, however thought better than to mention it. From the uncomfortable grimace on her face the last time he'd dared glance at her stomach, Sully assumed she preferred it if he paid her condition as little attention as possible.

"I…" she shrugged weakly, pushing herself to her feet and crossing to the other wooden wall to lean against it.

"Ya back sore?" he muttered softly, watching as she tried to dismiss his concern, however found it difficult to muster the energy to conceal her discomfort any longer.

She merely nodded and directed her gaze towards the window in the door to her right.

Sully watched her silently for several moments, as she maintained a determined glare towards the window, alternating her hands from the small of her back every so often.

"Wanna lie down?" He stood and gestured to the large bench they'd been sitting on.

She shook her head deliberately, Sully noticing the force with which she had tightened her jaw. Still, she kept her eyes locked on the passing scenery barely illuminated by the full moon.

"Michaela…" he cleared his throat, trying to obtain her attention. With great effort she turned her face towards him. "Ain't no reason ya needa pretend this isn't happening… you said so yaself…" he chose his words with deliberate ambiguity, knowing she would require further clarification.

"I don't…" she frowned.

Sully smiled slightly, taking two steps towards her. "You don't have to do this on your own. Why didn't ya tell me ya back's been botherin' ya?" he leaned sideways against the wall, less than a foot from her. Strategically, Sully had managed to block her view of the window.

She dropped her head, her eyes downcast towards her protruding stomach. "I am perfectly capable of looking after myself." She swallowed, loathing even indirect reference to the pregnancy.

"Ain't sayin' ya aren't… but I wanna help…" he kept his voice soft, as he followed her gaze, sliding another step closer towards her right side.

"Sully, I don't expect," Michaela replied coolly, pausing mid sentence when she felt his hand touch her right shoulder.

"I know." He slipped his hand from her shoulder, down her back, until his fingers brushed over her left hand, his thumb and index finger falling either side of her lower spine. She moved her left arm around from her back, bringing it around between her stomach and chest.

"I want to…" he whispered delicately, as he touched her left arm with his right hand, using it to balance her weight as he began a soothing massage of her lower back.

Sully heard the trapped air leave her lungs the moment he'd circled her spine the first time.

"Michaela… when I said 'I love you', I meant it… You ain't gotta go through this on ya own…" He stood in front of her, gently moving his right hand up her left arm, until she was between both his arms with her head rested on his shoulder.

She didn't reply, merely inhaled deeply and adjusted her chin more comfortably against his shoulder.

"Better?" he inquired in a low tone, as he slipped his right hand around her waist to massage her lower back more broadly. Sully smiled as the reply came in the form of an exhausted groan and her upper body pressed more heavily against his chest.

Sully felt her head heavy against his shoulder, as he moved his fingers firmly along the edges of her spine, feeling the bunched muscles under his fingertips.

"Shoulda told me… thought you were just wantin' to get away from the children every few hours…" Sully moved his hands several inches lower down her back, realizing he'd located a tender spot when she pulled back from his chest. "Sorry…" he whispered, his lips brushing past several wisps of her hair.

"It wasn't this bad until yesterday… and it's not as though you knowing makes a difference…" Michaela lifted her head from his shoulder, momentarily losing her footing as the carriage rocked sharply. "I hate this…" she spoke softly, looking down as his hands gripped her arms securely. She was tired of all the traveling, tired of having to move awkwardly against the unpredictable jolting of the train.

He nodded slowly, running his fingers along the insides of her forearms soothingly. "Michaela… ya know I would have given anything to have prevented this… and ya know ya only have to ask… and I'll help in any way I can…" He grasped her upper arms softly, moving his right hand around her left shoulder.

"Don't, Sully…" Michaela saw the immediate frown cross his face, as he gingerly lifted his hand, confused. She shook her head, moving her left shoulder closer between his arms. "No… I… I, just wish you wouldn't say that… I don't want you feeling as though you are forever trying to apologize."

Sully nodded and gradually slipped his hand back to her arm. "I… can't help it… I feel I failed you… that I let ya down when ya needed me…" He sighed, the breathy sound filling the silent surroundings.

Michaela reacted instantly to his sigh, the distressed tone of her voice startling him. "But I can't bear it, Sully! Every time you look at me… I see it… every time you say that you wish things had been different, I can hear that regret… and… _I'm_ sorry too! I'm _sorry!_" She pulled her arms tightly up under her chest, turning away from him, so that only her left shoulder brushed against the middle of his chest.

"Michaela… don't say that." He dropped his voice and reached his right arm further around her back. Again, she snapped back around to address him.

"There!" She looked sharply up at him. "Now you see? All it does is remind us… It's pointless, Sully. It doesn't matter how sorry we are… how much regret and anger we feel… it will never change anything."

"I… I'm…" He changed his mind from the sympathetic word, "You're right."

"We both carry our own guilt, Sully…" she kept her voice low and evenly-paced, her eyes dropping to his chest, lifeless and heavy.

He reached his left hand up to clasp over his right, having encircled her shoulders with his arms. "Maybe ya said it best, when ya said ya couldn't pretend this weren't happenin' any longer. Maybe that's why we're trippin' over ourselves…"

"I think so. There has to be a point where I accept this. Where we both do."

"I know. I just…" he felt her fingers against his lips immediately.

"No. Nothing else, Sully…" she removed her hand from his face, resting it hesitantly against his chest.

"Nothin' else…" he smiled, as he gently reached for her hand, tilting his head forwards and kissing it softly.

They locked eyes in silence for several moments, as Sully maintained his grasp on her hand.

Michaela felt a wave of exhaustion fall over her, trying as elegantly as she could to conceal the large yawn that crossed her face.

"Come on…" Sully shook his head, reaching his left hand back around her shoulders and leading her back up the corridor.

"Sully…" she whispered, reaching her right hand to his waist.

He glanced back at her with a shrug.

"Thank-you." Michaela finished shyly, as they arrived outside their compartment, the sliding door still closed.

"Never have to thank me…" He moved his left hand up to her shoulder, kissing her right temple precisely. "… you wake me if ya need me…" he quietly slid the glass door open, Michaela stepping into the room to notice the three children all fast asleep.

"Look…" she gestured towards Brian on the floor by Matthew's feet, curled into a small bundle, her thick, olive cape squashed snuggly around his little body.

Sully looked up from the little boy, to Matthew and Colleen, also both asleep. Colleen had her cheek nestled comfortably against her brother's ribcage, the older boy rested his head atop of hers. His arms were wrapped protectively around his sister's shoulders.

"They're beautiful… They love you, Michaela…" Sully kept his voice hushed.

"I need them, Sully… we're a family…" she murmured, bringing her left hand to the side of her stomach, aware of the gentle movements of the growing child within her.

"We are…" he leant forwards to tuck a strand of hair back behind her ear, pausing his hand on her neck for several seconds.

She smiled weakly, her eyes tired. "Goodnight…" Michaela crossed the small room, sitting down on the side of the bench and reaching for the blanket beside her.

"Here…" Sully knelt down quickly in front of her, taking the blanket from her as she settled awkwardly onto her left side. "Anythin'… and ya wake me…" he draped the gray blanket up over her shoulders, running his hand down the back of her head.

"I will…" Michaela spoke softly, adjusting her head until she was comfortable and letting her eyes drop closed.

Sully remained knelt by her side for several minutes, until the corners of her mouth relaxed and he knew she was asleep.

He silently crouched to the floor, leaning up against the wall under the window. He felt strangely refreshed, absent-mindedly drawing his right hand to the back of his neck, still aware of the coolness of his skin without his long hair.

_It was a fresh start._

_It was worth it one thousand times over._

**X.O.X**

**Monday, 18****th**** September, 1869**

_**Three Days Later – 21 Weeks Gestation**_

**X.O.X**

"Well children, now if you could all go home tonight and each come up with an activity that might be fun for the sports day next weekend. And don't forget to tell your families, because we want to have different activities for all different age groups." the Reverend leaned back against the wooden desk at the front of the school room. "Class dismissed," he concluded, the room full of children rising to their feet and scattering towards the back door.

"Um… Becky?" Lewis approached the young girl once they were both outside.

"Oh… what is it Lewis?" she turned quickly, her long braids swinging over her shoulders.

The two teenagers begin a slow walk from the schoolhouse towards the bridge, Lewis keeping several paces behind her.

"Wanted… to talk to ya… just… just wondered if ya knew when… when Colleen and them be comin' back?" He stumbled awkwardly, adjusting his glasses as he walked.

Becky kept her books clasped tightly in her right hand, as she reached the edge of the bridge, and stopped walking.

"I don't know, Lewis. Didn't know she was leavin' any more than you did. Told ya last week…" The young girl shrugged, looking downwards.

"Oh…" he muttered softly, the dismay in his voice apparent. "I'm sorry, Becky. Guess you must be feelin' kinda upset she didn't tell ya she was goin' away…" He chewed on his lower lip, as they both leant against the wooden railing.

"It ain't that…" Becky shrugged, "Just… she's been real angry… and, ever since Dr. Mike got hurt… Colleen ain't been the same neither… just worried about her…"

"I know what ya mean…" Lewis blushed slightly and looked away. "When we were rehearsin' for the play… Dr. Mike caught us… kissin'… and…"

"Kissin'?!" Becky squealed reaching for Lewis' arm.

He lowered his head with a small smile, "yeah… 'cept think Dr. Mike was real mad at her…"

"That'd make sense… Colleen's been angry at her, too… she wouldn't tell me why…" Becky narrowed her eyes as Lewis took a step closer, first looking around to see if anyone was nearby.

"Now, don't say nothin'… but… last week… Uncle Horace got a telegram from Boston… Aunt Myra said it was somethin' about Dr. Mike… that that's why Sully, Matthew and Colleen all left too… but she wouldn't say what…" Lewis watched Becky's eyes widen as he spoke.

"What? Like… somethin's wrong?" Becky frowned, adjusting the book in her hands.

"Maybe… she say anythin' to you, Becky?"

"Uh-uh… well… not really… been real stressed out though." The girl paused for a moment, "well… she did say somethin' about if someone were doin' something bad… but she ain't really talked to me…"

"Oh… well.. hope they all come back soon…" He looked back up, swinging his books over his right shoulder.

Becky giggled lightly, as they crossed the bridge, "You're sweet on her, ain't ya?"

"She's told you?" Lewis gulped, his voice jumping in pitch.

"'Course… she thinks it's great coz you're into the stuff she is," Becky continued as they crossed the meadow.

"She… she does?" His eyebrows raised.

"Sure…" Becky smiled, as Lewis made his way towards the porch of the telegraph office.

"Aww… um, well… thanks…" He wiped his sweaty hand against his vest, as Becky paced away down the main street.

"Maybe you needa suggest a sweetheart's three-legged race to the Reverend," Becky teased, her face quickly sinking, "… if she's back in time…"

"Yeah…" Lewis' smile dropped immediately.

**X.O.X**

"_Sully…_" Michaela kept her head pressed firmly against the back of the bench, her jaw clenched tightly in effort to endure the radiating throbbing stemming from the small of her back.

"Ya wanna stop?" He slid across the long seat towards her, reaching for her right hand.

"I… I can't stand this anymore…" she whispered, her voice choking.

"It's all right… only the five a us on board… we'll have 'em stop for a while…" he squeezed her fingers softly, quickly standing and climbing up to speak with the stagecoach driver.

Colleen and Matthew exchanged worried glances, the young girl moving over beside her mother swiftly.

"I'm sorry…" Michaela moved her head slightly, her voice still low.

"Don't gotta apologize, Dr. Mike… just wish it didn't have to be this awful for ya… is there… anything I can do?" Colleen reached her hand to her mother's shoulder.

Michaela merely shook her head in response and brought her left hand around to her back for support.

"At least it's only a few more hours…" Colleen consoled, as Brian looked up from the wooden train he was playing with in his hands.

"I liked the train better… more room… and weren't as bumpy…" He smiled softly.

"You are certainly right about that, sweetheart…" Michaela dropped her eyes wearily to the little boy, as she felt the speed of the coach decrease.

"There. We're stoppin'…" Matthew nodded, all looking as Sully reappeared through the window.

"Driver said we can stop for as long as ya want…" He settled back on the other side of Colleen.

Michaela blinked and nodded. "I just need five minutes or so… then I'll be fine," she smiled weakly, as the stagecoach came to a halt and Matthew opened the door, jumping down onto the dusty road below.

"Just… take ya time…" Sully leant over Colleen to squeeze Michaela's shoulder tenderly as she stood and arrived at the door, reaching forwards to Matthew as he carefully lifted her down.

**X.O.X**

Horace flipped the 'out to lunch' sign over on the door of the telegraph office with a small smile of satisfaction after a busy morning.

"Myra, honey?" He called, turned around and headed towards the doorway which led to the back rooms.

"Comin'," she arrived in the hallway with an enquiring smile.

"Honey… thought, might be nice, if we went over to Grace's for lunch? You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He stepped forwards to rest his arms around her back.

"Oh, Horace, we don't need to do that…really…" She pressed her head softly against her husband's chest, touched by his consideration.

"Well, we don't gotta… but just, thought save ya cookin'… and you been real tired today…" he brought his left hand to the side of her face.

"Then… would be nice. Was just about to start some soup… but, can do that tomorrow…" she looked up, as Horace bent over to kiss her forehead sweetly.

"Sure you can, darling. Just want you to take it easy." He rested his hand gently against her stomach, Myra tilting her head back to return the kiss sincerely.

"You're gonna be a wonderful Pa, Horace. I just know it…" Myra felt his hand glide over her tousled, brown hair.

"And your gonna be a beautiful Ma… This is one lucky baby…" Horace frowned when he saw the worried look cross his wife's face. "What?"

"Oh… Horace… I… I know ya can't tell me… but… well… that telegram ya got last week… 'bout Dr. Mike… I… I'm just real worried 'bout her…" Myra sighed, clasping her right hand over Horace's as he gently stroked her stomach.

"Myra… I ain't heard anythin'… since last week, that I _can_ tell you. I don't understand why you're so worried, though… Over there… hospital ain't no big deal… not like out here…" Horace looked down as Myra nestled her head back against his chest.

"I know… just… what if she don't come home?" Myra whispered.

"Don't be silly… told me herself; only gonna be a few weeks… 'Sides, now that Sully and the children gone after her…" Horace moved his hand to her shoulder, trying to calm her.

"But she won't wanna come home… not until after," she stopped abruptly.

"After?" Horace saw the confliction sweep over Myra's face.

"Horace… I… just please, can ya tell me if ya hear anythin' more 'bout Dr. Mike?" she asked quickly, as they paced across the office and out onto the porch.

"Well… I… I ain't heard nothin', honey… But why you so worried?" They stepped off the porch and walked slowly down the main street.

"Nothin', sweetheart. Just, well, I'm lucky I got you, that's all. Lucky about how life turned out." Myra interlocked her left arm around her husband's, as they made their way to Grace's café.

**X.O.X**

"Thanks for doin' this… it's been a long trip already…" Sully stroked the draught horse's mane, as he made idle conversation with the driver.

"No problem… where you come from?" the middle-aged, bearded man replied, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Left Boston last Thursday," Sully muttered, turning to check on Michaela and the children.

"Sure feel sorry for ya wife, though… I remember when my missus had our first… she could barely sleep for weeks… and it seemed to last forever… worth it though, ya know?" he spoke gruffly, yet with genuine sympathy.

"I know," Sully replied, reflecting on the pregnancy he had experienced with Abigail. "… think we all just need to get home…"

Both men alternated their gazes between the people distributed many yards away from them and the horses nearby.

"Well, like I told ya… only an hour or so into Colorado Springs from here…" He adjusted the harness on the horse in front of him.

"Thanks… I'll go see if she's ready…" Sully patted his back gratefully and paced slowly over to Colleen and Michaela.

Brian skulked around a large fallen tree log, kicking stones idly as he walked. Matthew, his hands dug deeply into his pockets, did likewise, each brother looking up at the other as they passed by.

"How much longer?" Brian looked up after the third rotation.

"Up to Dr. Mike, Brian… _ssh_…" Matthew lowered his voice, as Brian stopped moving and leant against the log.

"Sorry…" The little boy mumbled quietly, lifting his gaze to look over at his mother and sister who were standing under a large oak tree and Sully by the stage, talking with the driver.

"Dr. Mike?" the young girl leant back against the tree, clasping her hands around her waist as she took in the warm, late afternoon sun.

"Hmm?" Michaela turned, her left arm against her back habitually, as she stopped pacing.

"I… was wondering… does," Colleen stumbled awkwardly, "what does… I mean… how does…" she looked from her mother's face, down to her right hand against her stomach and back up to her face. "What's it… feel like?"

Colleen sucked the edge of her lip into her mouth, feeling very nervous in her question. She saw Michaela's brow wrinkle for a moment, as she considered the girl's question. "Sorry, Dr. Mike… I was just…"

"It's all right, Colleen…" Michaela smiled softly for a moment. "Perhaps you'd best talk with Myra once we arrive home… I'm sure she'd be able to give you the answers you're looking for…" Michaela dropped both her hands coldly to her side.

"But… I don't wanna ask her," Colleen's voice was plain and uninflected. "I wanted to ask," she was interrupted harshly.

"Colleen… I can't give you the pleasant response you're hoping for; my back aches horrendously, my ankles are almost twice their normal size, and that's just the last two days…" Michaela looked up in exasperation to see the sincere look on her daughter's face.

Tentatively, Colleen took a step closer, folding her arms across her chest.

"Everything changes, Colleen. Most of it, I knew… I could expect. Even then, it's still not the same." Michaela sighed with a miserable shake of her head.

"How?" the young girl coaxed, bringing her right hand to her chin and subconsciously chewing on a fingernail.

Michaela adjusted her weight slightly, stretching her back, as she looked from Colleen's honest and intrigued expression, down to her protruding abdomen.

"Everything…" her voice was flat and ragged, "… I don't even feel as though my body belongs to me anymore… as I can't control it… and… mostly I feel uncomfortable and awkward…" she let out a long held-in breath, "and I know it's only going to get worse…" she winced at the light, unexpected uterine contraction which gripped the front of her stomach.

"But… it's a baby; like Myra's… or Mrs. Harrison's you delivered last year…" She slipped her finger from her mouth, seeing the discomfort-fuelled tension fill her mother's face.

"It's not the same, Colleen… and I'm sorry you can't understand that." She wiped her hands over her eyes wearily as she reconsidered, "Maybe it is for the best; that is exactly why I didn't wish to discuss it with you." Michaela turned to the girl, reaching for her hands. "Sweetheart, I don't want to discuss this with you… because… I don't want you to be disheartened." She squeezed Colleen's hands tighter. "You'll fall in love, marry… and have your own children one day, Colleen… and I don't want you to think this is how it has to be for you… I want you to love the children you'll carry…"

Colleen stared down at their interlocked hands. "Don't you?"

Michaela startled as Sully arrived behind her, slipping her hands away from her daughter's.

"Sorry… ya feelin' any better?" He looked quickly between them, realizing he'd interrupted a significant moment.

"Yes…" Michaela replied automatically, still entranced by Colleen's question.

Slipping a hand delicately to Michaela's lower back, Sully gestured back towards the stagecoach. "Driver reckons only a couple a hours to go."

"Fine…" she muttered, making her way back to the stage, Sully still resting his arm on her lower back.

Colleen watched them walk away, her teeth returning to her lip, surprised that her mother had not objected to Sully's physical contact.


	87. Chapter 87

**Chapter 87**

"Just take a seat anywhere…" Grace barely looked up from the food on the stove, as Horace and Myra walked past her.

They arrived at a nearby table, Horace politely pulling out the chair, as Myra took her seat, Grace arriving next to her.

"Isn't he just so thoughtful…" Myra chuckled, as Horace made himself comfortable across from her.

"Now, honey… just wanna take care a ya…" Horace disregarded, although blushing slightly.

Myra turned at the sound of Grace's forced voice. "I got some chilli and beans… or there's a few slices a beef and gravy. And for dessert; apple pie or banana bread. What ya havin'?" Myra shrugged, still deciding, as she glanced over at Horace.

"Well, I'll have the chilli and beans… and the apple pie, thank-you, Grace. Myra?" Horace tucked the napkin eagerly into the top of his shirt, flattening it over his chest.

"I… um… um… Grace?" Myra pursed her lips nervously, beckoning Grace to lean towards her.

Grace frowned, but nevertheless obliged.

"Do ya reckon… I could have the beef… _on_ the banana bread?" Myra shrunk into the chair, embarrassed.

"Oh, Lordy…" Grace rolled her eyes, with a resigned nod. "Did you want the gravy as well?"

"Uh-huh…" Myra replied keenly, Horace just having worked out what she'd ordered.

"Myra, honey… you sure that's good for the baby?" He looked mortified.

"I'll… ah… get your lunch's…" Grace saw the beginnings of a disagreement and quickly made her presence scarce.

"Horace, I'm sorry. It's just… what I felt like…" Myra reached for the checkered napkin and settled it across her lap. "…'sides… if you have dessert _after_… still all ends up together in your stomach, so what difference does it make?"

"I… I guess so…" Horace nodded, although quite noticeably disturbed by his wife's pregnancy-induced cravings.

Grace carefully placed the freshly sliced pieces of bread on the edge of the plates, turning her attention back to the bubbling pot in front of her.

"Good day, Grace…" Dorothy had managed to sidle up to the younger woman.

"Oh… oh, Dorothy…" Grace gasped, turning, and settling her breathing.

"Sorry…" Dorothy frowned, "didn't mean to startle you." She was about to ask politely for some lunch, when she noticed Grace's discontented glare.

"My fault… had a lot on my mind…" Grace stirred the chilli and beans as they boiled, carefully spooning them onto Horace's plate.

"Like what?" Dorothy questioned deeper, her eyes narrowing in unshielded intrigue.

Grace tried to dismiss the concern with a shake of her head, however Dorothy leant forwards and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Now you ain't been your usual self for months now… somethin' troublin' ya?" Dorothy paused for a moment, watching Grace's usually lively eyes darken. "Oh, isn't you and Robert E.?"

"Oh… no… nothin' like that…" Grace smiled quickly, trying to return her attention to preparing the meals.

"Well, what then?" Dorothy reiterated.

Grace hesitated, looking around to make sure they were alone, as she slowly stirred the simmering gravy.

"I… feel kinda silly talkin' 'bout it, after all, Robert E. and I only been married a year. But we… always knew we wanted a family…" Grace lifted the shallow pan from the heat, drizzling it carefully over Myra's plate.

"And… you didn't think it'd take so long?" Dorothy speculated, meeting Grace's eyes sharply in understanding.

Grace nodded very swiftly in the affirmative, as she finished preparing the two meals.

"Now you just gotta be patient… why, took me over a year 'fore I had my first…" Dorothy trailed off as Grace moved away to set the plates down in front of Myra and Horace.

Adjusting the apron around her waist, Grace looked back up at Dorothy. Dorothy frowned at the hopelessness and coldness she saw in her friend's eyes. "Seems like some people got all the luck… barely married two months…" Grace darted her large eyes over to the expectant couple, Dorothy sighing in sympathetic understanding.

"I know," She swallowed, suddenly realizing Grace wasn't the only one who's life hadn't gone to plan. "… but then some people get nothin' but bad luck… just you remember, things could always be worse," Dorothy spoke, her voice rich with meaning and pity.

"You're right, suppose…" Grace mumbled, having to turn away from Horace and Myra's sporadic giggles and smiles.

"Just… be patient, Grace. Know that ain't any consolation to you, but," Dorothy saw the frustration renew in Grace's face.

"Even went and saw Dr. Mike… been keepin' a calendar like she said to." Grace shook her head in frustration, wanting to change the subject.

"Still takes time… for some folks." Dorothy completed the sentence awkwardly, wanting to be the one to break the shocking news to Grace. She wasn't sure what stopped her.

"I know… and I got a wonderful husband; got a good life now…" the younger woman tried to console herself.

"Wait, Grace; just wait. You won't feel so bad in a few weeks…" Dorothy muttered knowingly.

Grace opened her mouth slightly, about to contest the statement, when she saw the grave look upon Dorothy's face. Something told her to simply trust the woman's words.

**X.O.X**

Sully slid back in through the stagecoach window, noticing Matthew and Colleen's somber expressions. "Only another hour at the most," he informed them eagerly.

"_Ssh…_" Colleen raised her finger to her lips, glaring back at him.

Sully nodded apologetically, tentatively settling beside Michaela, who had eventually managed to fall asleep, cushioned against the side of the coach.

He lowered his voice, "Good, she can get some rest 'fore we get in." Sully saw the miserable look on the two younger children's faces and the concerned one on Matthew's. "What?" he prompted, looking from Colleen to Brian.

Brian shrugged, turning to his older sister hesitantly. She shook her head and looked away.

"Brian?" Sully repeated, seeing the boy squirm slightly, before plucking up the courage to quietly answer.

"Well… just… how long's Ma gonna…" he dropped his voice, "be like this?" The little boy locked his index finger and thumb around each of the fingers of his other hand in turn.

"Hush up, Brian," Matthew demanded, feeling equally as cramped and exhausted as the rest of them.

"Brian… now we talked about this, didn't we?" Sully began, seeing the little boy's gaze drop.

"Yeah…" he shrugged, looking quickly across at his mother, his lower lip falling into a pout.

"So ya know we all just gotta be supportive…" Sully noticed the confusion appear on the boy's face. "You're already uncomfortable now, aren't ya?"

The little boy nodded, exaggerating his squirming between his older siblings.

"And you ain't pullin' around a whole nother little person inside ya all the time…" Sully raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to strengthen his comparison.

Brian frowned, moving his eyes back to his mother's peacefully sleeping expression. "Guess it'd be kinda heavy…" he speculated thoughtfully.

"Yeah, it would. And that'd make ya more tired, don't ya think?" Sully met eyes briefly with Matthew, who seemed to appear more interested in the discussion.

"Uh-huh, plus you'd have to eat heaps more food, so the baby could grow too," Brian announced proudly. "Hey Sully?" Brian's face adopted a slightly terrified glare, "If the baby's in Ma's stomach, then wouldn't the food she eats fall all over it, make it real messy?" Brian's eyes were wide with concern.

"Don't be silly, Brian. Doesn't work like that; it's separate, remember? Dr. Mike showed you. The baby grows underneath the stomach… and the cord travels from the mother to the baby's belly button, that's how it eats…" Colleen rolled her eyes, although slightly amused by her younger brother's anguish.

"Oh, yeah…" he muttered. "… I forgot."

Matthew moved restlessly, folding, then unfolding his arms. "So ah, we all just gonna go on with life, like everythin's the same…" his voice was rich with cynicism, "Dr. Mike's gonna go back to work… and everyone's just gonna be totally fine with that…?" Matthew didn't think deluding themselves into normality would prove successful for very long.

"Matthew, can we just get ourselves through one crisis at a time…" Sully reacted strongly, the discomfort of the long journey having taken its toll on everyone's patience.

"What ya talkin' 'bout… still dealing with the first one…" he retorted without hesitation.

The small space fell silent, Sully knew there were still traces of hatred and anger fuelling the young man's words.

"Maybe Matthew…" Colleen spoke up softly, trying to mediate through the masculine pride and defensiveness, "… just meant… will things needa be different until the baby's born? Does Dr. Mike wanna go back to work?" the girl rephrased quickly, "_Can_ she go back?"

Sully relaxed his frown, turning his head slowly to glance in Michaela's direction. "I guess so… if she wants to…"

"If she still has a clinic to go back to, ya mean?" Matthew muttered, resting his arm on the edge of the window.

"Don't talk like that…" Sully pulled his right knee up towards his chest, locking his arms around it.

"Why? Tryin' to be realistic… stuff we gotta prepare for… Some people gonna be downright… uncomfortable…" Matthew shrugged, Brian turning his head, trying to make sense of the adults' words.

"Look, I've already talked to ya Ma about what she wants to do. If she wants to stay around the homestead until she feels ready then that's fine." Sully looked to his right and delicately pulled the hem of her long, dark green dress down to cover her exposed ankles.

"Fine…" Matthew sighed, too exhausted to be bothered with the discussion any longer.

"No, it ain't fine… what about everything else?" Colleen piped up from the seat beside him.

Sully narrowed his eyes, as Matthew turned around to face his sister.

She baulked at their misunderstanding, before quickly continuing, "I mean… what about all the chores and stuff; washin', cookin', takin' care a the animals… Been through all this before with Dr. Mike… but that was before the baby. We gotta stop her pushin' herself… coz she's gonna…"

"Colleen's right…" Matthew raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah…" Sully paused, tapping his hand against his thigh as he thought.

"I guess the Reverend won't mind me taking a day off a school each week, maybe…" Colleen spoke resignedly as she clasped her hands in her lap.

"No." Sully interjected immediately. "Don't gotta do that. I'll be around. Even if ya Ma don't like it… I'll make sure I'm around to help Matthew with the animals. That way you only needa take care a the cookin' and washin'…"

"Right… we all tended to do the washin' together anyway…" Colleen reflected, breaking into a small smile.

"Sure did." Matthew chuckled, remembering some of the antics they would get up to in the warmer weather.

"Then… we'll get it all worked out, and I'm sure Dorothy and Olive'll wanna help where they can." Sully tried to sound reassuring, however was met with skeptical looks from the two older children.

"Yeah…" Matthew trailed off, turning to glance out the window to his right.

"_Yeah_." Sully repeated, his tone firm and succinct.

**X.O.X**

"Sorry, men… full house." Hank took a long drag on his cigar as he splayed the cards precisely out on the table.

"Aww…" Loren threw his hand down, the cards sliding across the green felt table.

"Guess that wraps up the game…" Hank smirked proudly, reaching forwards to claim all the chips.

A young cowboy was the first to pull himself to his feet, kicking the wooden chair out of the way as he shoved his hat back on his head and strode furiously from the room.

"Yeah, too right it does. You even won that fifty dollars credit you owed me for whiskey…" Loren shook his head, leaning forwards to start gathering the cards into a pile.

"Oh, I did, didn't I?" Hank chuckled, finishing his cigar and butting it out on the underside of his shoe.

"Speaking of which…" Loren fished around in his vest, eventually locating his tarnished pocket watch, "stage is late today… already gone two…"

"It better get in soon. Had to water the whiskey down again, and couple a customers already complained it was gettin' weaker…" Hank muttered, standing from the card table and pacing across the room to the bar.

Loren finished collating the deck of cards and placed it neatly in the center of the round table.

Hank glanced around the room, as he idly stacked some empty glasses behind the bar.

"So… business been pretty good lately, then?" Loren rested his elbows on the edge of the bar, cupping his chin in his left hand.

"Not bad, I guess… and ya heard Jake's been making himself a frequent patron at my little establishment." Hank tilted a bottle of his private stock of whiskey in front of Loren questioningly.

The store owner nodded eagerly, returning to the discussion, "he been in here again? Thought the talk I'd had with him last week straightened him out." Loren shook his head.

"Well, sure didn't… been in here almost every night… even bought a couple a bottles off me last Saturday… thought he'd buy 'em from you… save money… but, he didn't wanna…" Hank poured the two small shots of whiskey, sliding Loren's across the bar to him.

"Nah, he wouldn't a come to me. Knows I wouldn't a sold him the stuff, don't think his drinkin' is a good idea." Loren sipped on his whiskey, as Hank did likewise. After several moments, the store owner paused and leaned forwards. "How much he have to drink anyway?" Loren slowly placed the glass back on the edge of the bar.

"Too much. Comes in after work… stays 'til either I kick him out or he falls asleep right at a table." Hank's face softened, into what, for Hank, could be described as concern. "Even tried to ask 'im what's brought on the drinkin', just about bit my head off…"

"Yeah… he ain't doin' too well at the moment…" Loren took another sip of his drink.

"Startin' to think that myself…" Hank finished his drink in a quick gulp, setting the glass down slowly.

"Then quit servin' him… ya don't want him gettin' sick again…" Loren warned, tapping his fingers anxiously against the wooden surface.

"Why you bothered all of a sudden? Never known you to miss out on the chance to make some easy money…" Hank flashed Loren a smug grin of competition.

"I told ya; ain't about the_ money_, Hank. Jake ain't himself at the moment… and I ain't gonna contribute to his troubles, sellin' him alcohol. If ya got any decency, neither will you…" Loren pleaded, sliding his empty glass back across the table.

"All's I know is, his money's as good as the next fella's. Jake's a grown man; he wants to drink himself into an early grave, then that's up to him." Hank reasoned, tossing a handful of long, wavy hair back over his left shoulder.

Loren checked his pocket watch once again. "Have to get back. Left Dorothy in charge. Was gonna wait here 'til the stage got in, but gettin' late now…" He stood back up from the bar and straightened his jacket. "I'll bring that whiskey down to ya just as soon as it…" Loren trailed off, both men hearing the distinctive sound of the trotting horses. "Well, what do ya know… come on, ya can get it yaself…" He waved Hank away from the bar, both men sauntering across the room and through the doors out onto the porch of the Saloon.

"Thought delivery was included in the price, Loren?" Hank grumbled as the two men paced down towards the Mercantile, the stage slowly coming to a stop.

"I got a bad back…" Loren defended, watching as assorted townspeople began milling around the stationary coach.

"Yeah, yeah…" Hank dismissed, separating from Loren and beginning to work his way through the crowd to collect his merchandise once it was unloaded.

Loren walked patiently around the back of the half a dozen or so townspeople, seeing Dorothy appear on the porch, as the driver climbed down from his seat.

Horace stepped forwards to take the mail pouch, as Loren cast his gaze superficially back to the stagecoach. It wasn't until then that the older man noticed the small head of blond hair.

He looked again. It moved.

Arriving by Dorothy's side on the edge of the porch outside his store, Loren brushed her arm lightly. "Dorothy, there anyone in there?"

"What, Loren?" the redhead replied, having been lost in her own thoughts.

"The stage… thought I saw…" Loren shook his head, as Dorothy raised her left hand to shield her eyes.

"Didn't look…" she spoke frankly, squinting to see if there was anyone inside the small coach.

Horace took the large mail pouch from the driver, securing it tightly under his shoulder. "Thanks… waitin' awhile. Was startin' to think ya wouldn't be makin' it…"

"Oh, no… just got delayed a bit… Got a pregnant lady… she was findin' the trip mighty uncomfortable, poor thing. Made a few extra stops." The driver smiled, as Horace signed the small clipboard in receipt of the mail pouch.

"I know all about that… my wife's expectin' too…" Horace handed the clipboard back to the driver, Hank managing to push through the crowd, after his whiskey.

"Enough a this gabbin', Horace. Ya got supplies, don't ya?" Hank addressed the driver forcefully.

"Sure.. just give me a moment…" he climbed back up to begin unloading the cargo.

Sully, still seated to Michaela's left, noticed her hand clench, as Brian eagerly flung the door open. He reached for her left hand, entwining his fingers with hers.

"Michaela… I'm goin' after Brian… then Colleen…" He trailed off, meeting eyes with Matthew sternly.

"Then you and me, Ma…" the young man finished confidently.

Michaela sighed, looking from each of them, as Colleen remained in her seat next to Matthew and Brian raced across the street.

"All right…" Michaela kept her head lowered, drawing a weary breath, as Sully moved his hand to her shoulder.

"I'll be right in front a ya… Matthew'll be behind ya… we just have to get from here, to the Clinic. Matthew'll get the wagon… and then home. Ain't no-one ya gotta talk to if ya don't want," his eyes were fixed on hers as he waited for a sign of acknowledgement.

Michaela turned her head, noticing the small crowd of townspeople awaiting supplies and chatting amongst themselves.

"You can do this…" Sully leant forwards to kiss the top of her head, "I know you can…" he squeezed her shoulder a final time, nodding to Matthew and making his way from the stage.

"Loren… Loren, quick…" Dorothy clamped her hand around his right arm, having spotted the stagecoach door open and the little boy jump out.

"Brian?" Loren's brow wrinkled, as the young boy looked around the crowd, the pair locking eyes immediately.

"Loren… if Brian's… then…" Dorothy's eyes widened.

"You're thinkin'…?" The older man darted his eyes in either direction through the few heads between him and the stagecoach.

"Hey, Mr. Bray!" The young boy ran towards him, throwing his arms happily around Loren's waist.

"Aww, Brian… I missed ya boy…" He clasped the back of the child's head, pulling him into a tight embrace against his stomach.

Dorothy dropped her jaw open, her large eyes still focused on the stage. "Brian… your Ma there?" she couldn't resist voicing the question that had been burning at her.

"Uh-huh…" He looked up from Loren's embrace, all three turning back to watch Sully step down onto the dusty ground.

"Hey… that's Sully…" Horace's mouth gaped with intrigue, stepping backwards and arriving by Hank's side.

"What do ya want, a prize?" the Saloon owner muttered sarcastically, clicking his tongue loudly against the inside of his mouth as he kept his eyes locked on the stagecoach, one possibility having already sprung to mind.

By the time Sully had turned around to help Colleen down the awkward steps, the small group of onlookers had simultaneously reached the same conclusion; Brian, Sully, Colleen, then surely Dr. Mike would follow.

Dorothy looked from the top of the little boy's head, to Loren's concerned face. "Loren… everyone's gonna… you gonna just stand there?" she spoke, her voice thin with apprehension and disjointed with nerves.

"'Course I ain't… come along, son…" Loren took the young boy by the hand and made his way to the front of the crowd, arriving in between Hank and Horace.

"What's all the hold up, never seen it take so long…" Hank brought his hands to his hips, as he watched the driver continue to unload boxes and bags from the storage area.

"There's Colleen, reckon Dr. Mike gotta be…" Horace squinted, "Yeah… can see her… and Matthew. That's a bit strange… driver said the lady…" Horace dismissed the concern immediately; there must have simply been another passenger on board between Denver and Soda Springs.

"She's waitin' for a reason," Loren's jaw began to tighten and drop.

"Didn't think they'd all be back this quickly… Everything must be all right. I'd best go start sortin' the mail…" Horace dismissed the older man's concerns, clutching the bag under his shoulder, as he moved away back towards the telegraph office.

"Hank, if I hear one word outa your mouth, you're gonna be gettin' whiskey from Soda Springs personally in the future." Loren spoke in a slow, dark tone, his mouth barely moving.

"What ya talkin' 'bout… 'least we got the doc back now… Maybe she'll be able to talk some sense into Jake like she did last time." Hank shook his head as Colleen moved away from the door, Sully turning back around. Several people had by that time, deliberately focused their attention on the stagecoach.

"Not a word, Hank…" Loren rubbed the side of his forehead as he let out a deep breath of concern.

"You go ahead, Matthew…" Michaela surveyed the awaiting crowd through the window, secure in the knowledge that in her seated position, her condition was concealed.

"No, Ma, go on. I'll be right behind ya." Matthew encouraged, extending his right hand out to her. "Please, Ma… ain't gonna get any easier," he reasoned, as she hesitantly took his hand and pulled herself to her feet.

"I know…" Michaela slipped her hand away from her son's, smoothing out the sides of her dark green dress.

Matthew took a step behind her, as Michaela felt a heaviness form in her feet. Her hands began to tingle with anxiety, as she looked up and saw Sully by the doorway.

"We're all here for ya, Ma…" Matthew tentatively moved his left hand to her lower back, as Michaela lowered her head enough to make it through the narrow space.

Her breathing had risen in her chest as she looked down to carefully place her right foot on the first metal step.

"Michaela…" she reached automatically to Sully's offered hand, never even hearing his hushed voice. The pounding of her own heart was deafening.

"Oh my God…" Dorothy exhaled in a long-held breath, as she saw her friend's familiar plait of hair over her shoulder, Michaela's head still lowered as she slowly arrived down onto the ground.

"There ya go…" Sully whispered, as she brought her first foot down onto the ground.

Michaela swallowed, trying to settle her irregular breathing, as she contemplated what to do with her hands. _This is ridiculous… why does everything sound so quiet? Look up, Michaela…_

She pushed her wrists firmly against either side of her full skirt, feeling Sully's hand drop away from her.

_You're on your own, you can do this. Look up; Find someone you trust and just look at them…_

Having taken two small steps away, Michaela turned around to see Matthew climbing down after her. It wasn't until his right foot had touched the ground that the first distinguishable utterance was heard.

"Michaela, welcome ba… _hell!_ How did-_ugh!_" Hank felt Loren's elbow hard in his ribcage before he'd even realized the words had left his mouth.

"_Shut it!_" the older man hissed through clenched teeth.

Michaela looked involuntarily in the direction of the voices, her mouth opening in defense as her eyes met Hank's.

Hank saw her react to his words, glimpsing her vacant, hurt expression as the pain in his chest dissipated. He was the first to break the eye contact, looking down to kick a stone away with his shoe.

"C'mon…" Sully reached back for her arm, fighting every impulse to storm across the small distance between them and knock Hank's teeth down his throat.

Michaela felt his hand lock around her wrist, as she tore her eyes away from Hank's dropped head.

Another moving object to her right caught her attention and Michaela hadn't managed to move more than a step before Dorothy arrived next to her. The outspoken, if well-intentioned redhead, moved a hand to the back of Michaela's right shoulder.

"Oh, Michaela… I… I'm so sorry…" Dorothy shook her head miserably, expecting Michaela to politely accept her sympathy and perhaps even apologize for her unannounced departure.

Michaela's partially dropped jaw was instantly accompanied by a cringe of awkwardness and disbelief.

"I wish ya had a told me…" Dorothy continued, looking deliberately down at Michaela's prominent stomach.

"Dorothy, really don't think…" Sully sighed, slipping his hand away from Michaela's. He stepped in front of her, to obtain some level of discreetness for the unexpected conversation.

"I'm sorry… I just," Dorothy brushed several strands of loose hair away from her left cheek, dropping her hand back to her side.

Michaela alternated her gaze between Sully and Dorothy, feeling her hands begin to ache with pins and needles. Curling them into tight fists, she caught the edges of her skirt between her fingers and let her eyes move through the crowd.

She saw the undisguised looks of shock on several of the townspeople's faces and, as she continued to move her gaze through the small gathering, Michaela rested her eyes on Loren's glum expression. She looked down and saw his arms rested on each of Brian's shoulders.

_I have to get away from here…_

She swallowed once again, this only causing her next breath to be even higher and more frantically snatched.

Michaela looked down to see her chest rising and falling, as Sully finished muttering to Dorothy.

_I can't stand this… I can't breathe…_

Again, she looked up, her eyes darting without her head moving, from person to person, meeting eyes with several, many of whom she'd seen as patients. The glares she received were cold, more than one woman shaking her head in bewilderment, many lowering their eyes in raw pity.

_They're looking at me. They're just feeling sorry for me. Oh, God… I can't bear this… Where…?_

Just as Michaela pulled her eyes from the last patronizing look, she spotted the closed door to the Clinic across from the gathered crowd.

A single word repeated itself in her mind: _refuge_.

Sully had only just returned his gaze to her, when he saw Michaela move forwards, both hands gripped tightly to the sides of her skirt as she pushed herself into a frenzied dash.

"Michaela?" Sully frowned, Matthew and Colleen rushing up to him, all equally alarmed by her emotionally driven escape.

"She all right, Sully?" Dorothy gripped his arm with concern.

"Ah, no… to be perfectly hones, she's not," he replied hastily, his words being delivered with less-than-hidden sarcasm.

"Matthew… get our bags, will ya? Colleen… bring Brian over as soon as ya can. Think we all just need to get home." Sully had already begun to follow after Michaela.

The older children nodded lightly, Colleen looking back at Dorothy awkwardly.

"That sure explains a lot…" Hank eventually plucked up the resolve to come out with another wisecrack.

"Keep it shut, Hank…" Loren warned once again, patting Brian's back and directing him over to Dorothy.

"Oh, Colleen… why didn't ya say somethin'?" Dorothy maternally fixed the upturned edge of the girl's sleeve.

Colleen shrugged, rubbing her younger brother's upper arms, as she watched Michaela arrive by the Clinic door, reach for the key, unlock it, and disappear inside.

"Weren't nothin' to say… Dr. Mike wanted it kept quiet… 'til," Colleen stopped abruptly, and quickly corrected herself. "She wanted it kept quiet, until she'd had a chance to see a doctor… make sure everything was all right."

"There, there… now you don't gotta keep anything from me… know all about it. Think it's mighty brave a ya Ma to go through with this." Dorothy spoke cryptically, given Brian's close range, having no idea as to the extent of the drama the little boy had experienced.

"In the end, didn't have no choice… Um… Miss Dorothy…" Colleen looked down at her hands fidgeting at her waist. "Was… was wonderin'. Didn't like to ask or nothin'… and Dr. Mike'd probably hate me for sayin' anything… but… we're just all worried that she's gonna have trouble managin' with everything… 'round the homestead… and, she didn't want me missin' school or nothin'…" Brian pulled away from her, to go and help Matthew collect the luggage.

"Oh, don't you worry about that, dear. I'll pop out there tomorrow morning… and don't fret; Michaela won't know you so much as spoke to me…" Dorothy assured the young girl immediately.

"Thanks… I… better…" she tilted her head towards the Clinic.

"Want me to come speak with her now?" Dorothy took a step after Colleen.

"Um, maybe best give it a day; she ain't really herself. Lots a stuff happened… and she gets really emotional real easy," Colleen separated her fingers, sighing in exhaustion.

"Well, dear… that's to be expected…" Dorothy smiled with understanding. "But I'll come by tomorrow."

"Thanks," Colleen concluded, increasing the length of her stride and walking determinedly across the busy street towards the clinic.

"There, they gone now… so ain't offending nobody. How the hell did that happen?" Hank chuckled, as Loren handed him the case of whiskey.

"You really are dafter than I thought. Just… show some respect, for once in your miserable life…" Loren placed the case of whiskey forcefully into Hank's outstretched arms, the Saloon owner adjusting his grip quickly so as to avoid dropping the wooden crate.

"Oh, sure… respect. Respect? Michaela Quinn tries to get all high and mighty with us. Always tellin' us what to do, tryin' to run everybody's lives… and now look at her. Well, serves the lady right." Hank looked once again across to the closed Clinic door. "She ain't gonna be poking her nose into no-one's business from now on."

"Aww, Hank… ain't her fault. Don't care how she was, ain't no-one deserves somethin' like this…" Loren carried the first box of supplies over to the porch of the Mercantile, Hank remaining on his heels.

"Somethin' like what?" he rebuked without a pause.

"Well, you know… havin' to… be in a situation like this…" Loren pulled his chin back towards his neck, lowering his gaze and voice at the same time.

"Seems to me, Michaela endin' up in a mess like this… just her own doin'. Always knew she was too high and mighty for her own good." Hank moved the heavy crate to his right shoulder, Loren placing a hand on his aching back, quickly becoming fed up with Hank's lack of compassion.

"Hank… Now you listen to me; Dr. Mike saved your life not that long ago… and I don't want you talkin' like this about her… Gonna be hard enough Sully and those children gettin' her through this. What they need is our _help_." Loren walked back to the side of the stagecoach for the second crate of supplies.

"Ha! Sully? You gotta be kidding me… Think he's done more than enough damage… Michaela wouldn't a ended up like this if it weren't for him." He chuckled again, just thinking about the irony. "Aww, wait 'til I tell Jake… He'll have a right good laugh with me…"

"Hank, wait!" Loren found his voice quickly, having decided to ignore the younger man's rantings. "You, you can't tell Jake…"

"Oh, no, Loren; I said it first, _I'm_ tellin' him… You… you can tell the Rev…" Hank protested. "Hmm, although, rather have liked to be there for that one, too."

"Hank, now just you _listen_ for once. I'm _tellin'_ ya… ya can't tell Jake… And I _mean_ it this time; I find out you told him in the next two hours, I _will_ make you go all the way to Soda Springs yourself for that whiskey." Loren threatened, pointing his index finger squarely into Hank's chest.

"All right, old man… But I'm tellin' the preacher _and_ Robert E.," Hank asserted, before turning and sidling back to his Saloon, a smug grin plastered across his unshaven face.

**X.O.X**

"Michaela!" Sully swung the door closed behind him, as they both arrived into the examination room of the Clinic.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed as she spun around, both hands clasped to her mouth. Her shoulders rose and fell with each effortful gasp.

"Whoa, hey… everythin's fine," he reassured, crossing the room and reaching for her wrists to lower her arms.

"No, it's not! I can't go back out there!" Still her breathing remained uneven, "I, I can't face them!" Michaela slipped her arms from his grasp, turning back around to rest her hands against the off-white linen sheet folded over the examination table.

Slowly, Michaela looked down at her whitening knuckles, "I, I can't breathe," her voice was strangled and desperate.

"Just, relax," Sully soothed, "It's gonna be all right. Matthew's gettin' the luggage and the wagon. Then we can all go home… and you can take as long as," Sully stopped when he saw her head drop and her fists clench tighter either side of her.

"Stop saying that! How did you not see that? The… way they looked at me. How do you… expect me to live here like this? How can I ever earn their respect back?" Michaela's breathing was ragged. Thrown by her outburst, Sully took a step backwards.

"Michaela, you don't gotta earn _anyone's_ respect back. You just have to take care of yourself… and sure, it'll take some time, but once people see you're the same person ya always were… they'll come 'round." Sully again moved closer towards her, able to hear the intensity of her breathing. "Calm down…" he whispered, placing a hand on Michaela's left shoulder.

"I want to go home, Sully," she spoke softly, her head still lowered.

Sully nodded to himself, bringing his right hand to her other shoulder, as he kept his hand just behind hers. "We will." He could hear her trying to regulate her breathing.

Both remained silent, Michaela gradually managed to decrease the rate of her breathing, feeling the circulation return to her extremities.

He heard the sharp intake of breath and looked over her shoulder. "Ya all right?"

She nodded, bringing her right hand to the top of her stomach, in response to the stronger movement she'd felt.

"Does it hurt?" he frowned, glancing at the side of her face as he rubbed his hands against her upper arms.

She kept her eyes lowered and merely shook her head in response. "Still just takes me by surprise… It was my own fault; I shouldn't have exerted myself earlier."

Sully turned as he heard the door open behind him.

"Matthew's getting the wagon…" Colleen muttered, as she and Brian slipped into the room.

"Thanks… gonna get ya Ma home, tucked into bed for a few hours." Sully moved away from Michaela, only so far as to lean back against the examination table on her left side.

"And I can make supper…" Colleen contributed, as Brian spotted his cup and ball game rested on the end of the long, wooden bench.

Crossing the room, he placed his mother's medical bag next to the toy. Excitedly, he picked up the game, and began tossing the little ball up and down.

"Aw, yeah, and I can see Pup. Really missed bein' home…" the little boy's cheerful tone resonated through the otherwise silent room.

"Think we all have, Brian," Sully added, as Michaela, her composure regained, turned around to face the children.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, everyone absorbing themselves in watching Brian struggle to secure the ball in the wooden cup. This continued for several minutes, until Colleen heard the unmistakable sounds of approaching horses.

She opened the door to the Clinic, Sully meeting Michaela's gaze.

"Be home soon…" he encouraged, brushing her arm.

Brian quickly discarded the primitive game and darted eagerly outside. Michaela followed behind the young boy, retrieving her medical bag and arriving out onto the porch.

"Robert E. brought them all into town…" the young girl gestured to the harnessed Bear, and the three horses the blacksmith was leading.

"And the wolves too, by the looks a things…" Sully chuckled, walking over to the back of the wagon to pat Pup on the head and rub Wolf's muzzle. "Hey ya, boy…"

"Great, I get to ride Taffy home…" Brian's face lit up into a bright smile.

The little boy climbed proficiently onto his horse, as Matthew pulled Scout into a halt.

"What about…?" Colleen gestured to Flash, as Sully helped Michaela up onto the wagon.

"Colleen?" Matthew raised his arm towards the horse, as he jumped down from the wagon and mounted Scout.

"I… guess so…" she cringed slightly, nonetheless, accepted Robert E.'s help and took the reins.

"Ready?" Sully tightened his grip on Bear's reins, turning to Michaela a final time before pushing the horse into a slow walk.

"Race ya home, Matthew?" Brian asked, looking from his brother to his mother as the entourage made their way down the main street.

"Dr. Mike?" Matthew called, looking back towards Brian.

"All right, just be careful." Michaela allowed. A small smile crossed her lips as she watched the boys delight in the rugged adventure.

In a dusty cloud of gallops, they quickly vanished from view.

"Ya stayin' with us, Colleen?" Sully smiled, as the tentative girl struggled to keep up with the wagon.

"You bet I am. The slower Flash moves the better as far as I'm concerned." She nervously squeezed the horse's belly as the mare obediently obeyed and increased her pace.

Sully shook his head with a laugh, as he increased Bear's speed to match Flash's, the two horses turning off the main street. Considering the distance they had traveled in the past week, home was now only a short way off.


	88. Chapter 88

**Chapter 88**

"Fetch, Pup!" Brian threw the overly mended ball, made of small patches of material, excitedly across the yard, encouraging the eager wolf after it.

"Brian! Not in here…" Colleen groused, realizing the ball had entered the chicken coop, when she was confronted with an onslaught of screeching and flying feathers.

"Oops! Sorry…" the little boy shrugged, about to jump the small, white-picket fence to retrieve his ball, when the young pup bet him to it.

"Awww, now look! Pup, no! Leave it!" Colleen ordered, standing up and reaching her right hand to her hip so quickly, she forgot about the half a dozen eggs, bundled safely in the folds of her skirt. "Damn it! Brian!" she growled, the eggs falling to the dusty ground, smashing instantly.

"Ain't my fault," her younger brother whined, awkwardly stepping over the fence to try and control his pet.

"Well then you tell me who's it is… Now look! Pup… Pup, no!" her eyes widened as she yelled, the young wolf making straight for the freshly cracked eggs.

"Pup… Pup stop it… please?" Brian begged, arriving next to the wolf and reaching for the scruff of his neck, pulling him back with all the strength he could muster.

"Don't bother, Brian. May as well let him finish…" Colleen rolled her eyes, dusting the assortment of chicken feathers from her arms and skirt.

"Was that all a them?" Brian chewed on his bottom lip, seeing the exasperated look etched on his sister's face.

"What do you think, stupid?" she murmured under her breath, eyes narrowing.

"Don't call me stupid! Ain't allowed!" Brian folded his arms likewise.

"Well that's what you are… and you can just clean up those shells too… I've got more chores to do…" Colleen had just turned around when Brian responded to her order.

"I ain't cleanin' 'em up… was _you_ dropped 'em. _You _clean 'em up," he pulled Pup back, the wolf contently licking his jowls.

"Was your fault they dropped! Not like you got anything better to do than play… _oh_, you're _such_ a _child_…" her final words were embellished with significant aloofness, as she strode back to the small gate.

"Am not!" Brian scowled, looking angrily between the mess of cracked eggshells and his sister's departing form.

**X.O.X**

Colleen stormed back inside, closing the door loudly behind her, her weight collapsed against it.

The young girl chewed on a fingernail for several moments, her eyes moving to the dusty floor below.

Exhaling noisily, she let her eyes drop closed for several moments, aware of the exhaustion pushing down upon her shoulders.

Stepping away from the door, Colleen slowly opened her eyes, about to continue further inside the homestead, when she remembered Michaela was still asleep. Gingerly moving forward several paces, the young girl checked.

Michaela had eventually managed to fall asleep, rolled onto her right side, hands nestled under her head.

Colleen shrugged, looking towards her own bed, feeling the gnawing pain below her stomach. Absent-mindedly rubbing her abdomen, she sighed and quickly settled herself against the inviting blankets. Monthlies always had that annoying way of arriving exactly when you didn't want them. And having to conceal such a thing for most of the afternoon on the stage was not easy.

After several moments, her eyes began to hover over the wooden beams of the roof above her. She allowed her mind to wander.

_The kids'll wanna know everythin' tomorrow… parents will 'ave told 'em… Brian and me gonna get teased shockin'… _

Colleen dropped her eyes closed, and her head began to move slowly from side to side.

_Kids are so stupid… Ain't gonna understand anything… _She scoffed under her breath without realizing, _not like the Reverend's gonna be any use… He's always got God as a scape-goat._

Angrily, she pulled her pillow out from under her head and flopped it over her face. _Why we gotta pay for this? Was Sully's fault… Gettin' Dr. Mike involved with 'em all. Shoulda just stuck with the town, knew we couldn't trust 'em…_

She caught herself quickly.

_Oh, great, now I sound like Matthew… Well, maybe he did have a point… maybe… no. No, it wasn't Sully's fault. Wasn't Dr. Mike's fault neither._

A small part of her had to admit to herself that, much as she had condemned her mother's behavior in trying to put an end to this pregnancy, she couldn't deny the fact that she was starting to appreciate why Michaela had felt it would have been so much easier.

_But wouldn't I have done the exact same thing? No… No. I… I wouldn't have let… what, you would have rather've died? Don't be ridiculous! _She chastised herself immediately, pulling herself from the bed into a sitting position. _I hate thinking about this stuff…_

Colleen got briskly to her feet, quietly moving into the dining area and gazing over the contents of the shelves and cupboards.

"Ain't nothin', now that Brian ruined the eggs…" she mumbled quietly to herself, giving up on finding a solution to dinner and pacing back outside to find Matthew. He'd have to go into town and get something.

**X.O.X**

Jake sat down in the hard, wooden chair, next to his desk. Stretching his arms back behind his head, the barber sighed. It was a tired sigh; A sigh of disappointment over a slow day's trade. He'd not had a single customer since just after lunch – and that was nothing more than a shave.

Absent-mindedly opening the top drawer of the desk, his eyes fell immediately on the whiskey bottle. Frowning, Jake fumbled with the cap, before eventually being soothed by the sharp, acidic liquid that washed into his mouth and down his throat.

He pulled the bottle away, the alcohol spilling down his shirt, as he heard heavy footsteps on the porch.

Dabbing at his white shirt and frantically screwing the cap back on the bottle, Jake tossed it back into the drawer.

He arrived to his feet just as Loren entered the barber shop, the older man's feet sliding across the floorboard in uncertainty.

"Loren? If ya wanted a shave, come at the wrong time, haven't ya?" Jake cleared his throat, hands going to his hips. He figured that if he at least appeared gruff and unappreciative of Loren's interruption, it would take the focus off the wet patches on his shirt.

"Ain't a shave I want, Jake. Come to talk to ya…" Loren removed his hat, wiping his forehead habitually.

"Talk? Look… didn't we go through this last week? Told ya… was havin' a bit a trouble sleepin'… been better now's I come to think about it," Jake began when Loren interjected swiftly.

"It ain't about that… Jake, there's somethin' I needa tell ya… and… thought it best you heard it from me… Seein' as how… well… you've been havin' a bit a trouble lately," This time, it was Jake who cut Loren off.

"What? What's it got to do with me?" Jake's impatience slowly melted into concern, as he began to think about the content of his and Loren's recent conversations. "Is it about Dr. Mike? When you said last week… Is that it? Ain't she comin' back?" Jake's eyes narrowed, taking a step closer to Loren.

Unconsciously, Loren pulled his mouth into a solemn pout, licking his lips nervously, as he carefully chose his words. "No… No, Jake… that ain't it… Dr. Mike… well… the lot a them got back couple hours ago… came over, soon as I could… once I… settled everything down over at the store," he finished, scanning Jake's face for any glimmer of knowledge.

"Oh," Jake muttered, with a disinterested shrug. "Well, good." He cleared his throat, adjusting his stance nervously.

"You sure no-one's been over here… said anythin' to ya?" Loren probed quietly, surprised when Jake responded with slight aggression.

"No. Ain't no-one been over here in hours… been a slow day, you don't gotta remind me of it…" Jake folded his arms tightly across his chest.

"Weren't meanin' to… just thought, what with Dr. Mike and the children back… was worried," Loren trailed off, his hands beginning to shift uncomfortably between his pockets and his side.

Jake squinted, intrigued more by Loren's awkwardness than his words. "What do I care where she is?" Jake rolled his eyes, in immediate retraction, seeing Loren's disbelief. "I _meant_, I… I'm glad she's back," he finished uncomfortably.

Loren nodded briefly, his hands digging into his trouser pockets, as he turned and began pacing around in small circles. "Ah…," he cleared his throat, his gaze alternating between Jake and the dusty floorboards.

"Loren, you sure you're feelin' right? Why'd you come over here anyway? Just to tell me about Dr. Mike?" Jake questioned, his eyebrows lowering as he studied Loren's nervous twitching.

"Ah… no… well, guess you could say that…" Loren unconsciously brought his left hand to his chin, his index finger brushing over the day's whiskers. "Really… expected ya to already know," Again, he cleared his throat.

"Know? Well, maybe if business hadn't been so light, I woulda," Jake shrugged, turning around and reaching for a dry cloth. "What's the big deal though? Don't get me wrong… glad she's back; now she can go back to being the Doc 'round here," Jake removed the sterilized razor from the alcohol-filled basin, carefully drying it off. "'stead a leavin' me to pick up the pieces."

"I wouldn't be countin' on that at any rate… Listen, ah… Jake… didn't want to be the one to have to tell ya this… Ya see…" Loren's hands moved from his pockets to the bottom of his vest, until he finally clasped them behind his back. "Dr. Mike… might not be able to go back to work," he stated nonspecifically; perhaps he would be able to coax Jake into realizing the truth for himself, it'd save Loren the arduous task of telling him.

"Loren… what are you babbling about? Coz I gotta tell ya… it's been a lousy day… just wanna head upstairs… have a few quiet drinks… and hopefully get a decent night's rest…" Jake placed the razor neatly on the cloth and moved across the room to switch the store's sign to 'closed'. "And you're keepin' me from it…"

Loren watched silently as Jake paced back across the room, carefully unbuttoning his vest and draping it over the back on the large, red, velvet chair. "Jake… no… I really gotta tell ya. I owe ya that much after everythin' ya been through…" Loren paused, Jake cutting him off quickly.

"What _are_ you talkin' about, Loren… Gettin' all serious with me is a worry…" Jake opened the small cupboard – just one of many of his secret hiding places – and retrieved the half full bottle of whiskey.

"Aww, Jake…. I wish ya'd stop drinkin'… On second thoughts… we both might need it… Jake… what I gotta tell ya… about Dr. Mike… didn't ya…well, think it strange her just disappearing few weeks back?" Loren watching as Jake carefully unscrewed the top of the whiskey bottle.

"Can't say I gave it all that much thought… been doin' all I can to _stop _thinkin' about her… not the other way around…" he studied the label, about to bring the bottle to his lips.

Loren drew a deep breath. "Jake… I… I'm worried that what I gotta tell ya will upset ya…" he slowly reached across to prize the bottle from the barber's right hand.

"Hey," Jake protested, as Loren surprised him by taking a quick drink. "Loren, what do you think you're do-"

"What I gotta tell you, I need all the help I can get," Loren took another generous drink, before reluctantly handing the bottle back to Jake.

"Well?" Jake prompted, frustrated by Loren's hesitance.

"It's about Dr. Mike…" Loren began again, Jake's annoyance growing by the minute.

"Yeah… so you've said… about three or four times now," Jake took another sip, his bad temper immediately beginning to dissipate as the warm, sharp liquor flowed into his mouth.

Loren's head dropped, not wanting to see Jake's face when he divulged the news, "She… well… the reason she…"

Jake had had enough, "Loren!" He put the glass bottle down onto the small table noisily.

"She's havin' a baby," he blurted out, not even conscious of the words he had chosen, "… I thought ya oughta hear it from me…"

"She what? Loren… you playin' some kind of…" Jake felt his throat constrict; his stomach sinking, "Oh?" he whispered, reality catching up with him.

"Thought maybe you'd heard… what with it bein' so obvious… thought someone woulda mentioned," Loren locked eyes with Jake.

"No," he confirmed very quietly.

"Jake… I… I didn't think it was possible… Dorothy assured me it was." Nervously, Loren had begun licking his lips.

"I… don't understand… what's possible?" Jake shook his head, very confused.

"That she could… well… just say I'd never thought about it," Loren cleared his throat once again.

Jake frowned, his eyes locked on Loren's, as he brought his hands to his face, cupping them over his mouth. His mind began to reel.

"Oh my _God_…" Jake muttered, his voice barely audible over Loren's.

Loren swallowed, the room falling into silence. The distress he saw in Jake's eyes caused him to look away, through the front window, at the assortment of townspeople calmly walking along the street.

After several moments, he turned his attention back to Jake, seeing his hands drop from his mouth.

"Jake… ya alright?" Loren asked slowly.

Jake had to struggle to hear the man's voice over his troubled thoughts. _Oh my God… _his mind persisted…_ Why? How?_

"_Jake…_" Loren pressed, his voice just that bit louder.

"Right… ah… well, I… I… thank-you for letting me know, Loren…" Jake rubbed his hands together slowly, before finally letting them drop to his side.

"You sure this ain't botherin' ya?" Loren checked, looking between his friend and the whiskey bottle. If anything was going to send Jake back into dangerous levels of drinking…

Jake followed his gaze, arriving at the same conclusion, "Oh, Loren… ya don't gotta worry about me… told ya… I'm _fine_," he enunciated, with just a little too much energy.

"Now, now… ya don't gotta pretend around me… If anyone'd find this distressin'," Loren spoke calmly.

"No, told ya, it's fine. Really," Jake assured, gesturing to the whiskey bottle.

"If you say so… guess ya can't do that much damage with just that one bottle…" Loren nodded, although pretty certain that Jake had others stashed in various locations around the room.

Jake battled against the sea of questions being fired at him. _When did she find out? What's she gonna do? What is the town gonna do? It's just… wrong…_

"Jake?" Loren prodded, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry. Look Loren… I appreciate ya comin' over and tellin' me… Sure am sorry for Dr. Mike… But ya don't gotta worry about me."

"You sure?" Loren wasn't convinced.

"Be fine… It's a shock... but… ain't my worryin' gonna change nothin'…" Jake thought quickly for a diversion, "So how's Dorothy handlin' it? Gotta be worse for her… bein' so close to Dr. Mike…"

"Actually was Dorothy told me… last week, said Olive told her after Sully and the children left…" Loren saw Jake's face relax, his concern abating.

"But you said everyone'd know by now?" Jake frowned, wondering why he hadn't yet heard about it.

"Were a few people 'round when the stage come in this afternoon… and between Hank and Dorothy… well… was surprised you hadn't heard in any case," Loren finished, carefully redoing the top button of his vest.

"Ain't you got a store to close up?" Jake changed the subject swiftly.

"Guess… but you _sure_ ya gonna be all right?" Loren stressed, reaching his right arm forward to grasp Jake's shoulder.

Jake looked down at the unexpected contact. "Be fine, Loren. Ain't me ya gotta worry about anymore… is it?" Jake tilted his head, as Loren dropped his arm back down.

"Suppose not…" Loren nodded, "Best go back to the store… nearly time for supper."

"Hey, Loren… you goin' to that poker night Hank's got planned for Thursday?" Jake brushed some hair clippings from the front of his shirt.

"Wasn't sure… might as well. You?" Loren turned towards the door.

"Wanted to," Jake began hesitantly. "Just a bit worried…" his voice dropped, "been spendin' too much time over at Hank's lately,"

Loren nodded, his face neutral. "I know. Hank was tellin' me this mornin'. Listen, Jake. Do a deal with ya; Stay away from Hank's until Thursday night and I'll go in the game with ya… And if ya feel like ya _need _to go to Hank's… come talk to me. Any time." The older man offered sincerely, their eyes locking once again.

"Yeah… thanks, Loren… feel kinda stupid tell ya the truth… I mean… I'm a grown man; only little children get nightmares," Jake shrugged, Loren opening the small door across the room.

"Most grown men don't go through somethin' like we did… 'specially you and Horace," Loren tilted his head to convey his subtle meaning.

"Then why ain't Horace a mess like me?" Jake frowned, folding his arms.

"Dunno… Just affects some people different than others… Maybe Horace ain't really had time to think about it… what with the wedding and Myra expectin'… The man hasn't had time to come down outa the clouds yet," Loren contemplated, one hand absent-mindedly supporting his sore back.

"Yeah; suppose. Maybe he just tried to ignore it more… never seemed to bother him in the least," Jake sighed, feeling very alone in the small confines of his shop.

"Between you and me… Horace ain't the type who'd think much about anythin'. Aww, he's a nice enough man and all… just ain't… well, never has been one to go in for gossip; never talks 'bout his feelin's… Keeps to himself too much, I reckon," Loren tried his best to appease Jake.

"Maybe I oughta try that…" he shrugged, following Loren out onto the porch.

"Nah… life ain't as much fun when ya don't got people ya care about… who care about you… My Pa used to tell me; 'Loren, ya only get out a life, what ya put into it,' and he's right about that. Seen a lot a people come and go in this town… But if ya don't get involved; risk gettin' hurt even, ya also miss out on great friendships. Like when my wife died… Angry as I was… I realized, it was coz she meant so much to me. It hurt so bad coz I loved her so much, and I wouldn't a taken that back for nothin'; no matter how much it hurt, it was worth it. So ya gotta believe, Jake – even when things get tough - that if ya didn't feel things… ya'd end up alone…" Loren had been surveying the passersby. It was just after five o'clock, and the town was busy with people making their way home for supper.

"I think I get what you mean… but sure not like you," Jake took a brief glance in Loren's direction, following his eyes back out to the main street.

"Well, things a changed… ain't they? Reckon I've learnt a thing or two; reckon most a the people 'round here have; know Dorothy and Olive have… and the Reverend… even Hank," Loren moved his hands to his pockets, preparing to leave, "And, even though you'll deny it… think you have too, Jake." Loren nodded a quick farewell and began an unhurried pace back to the general store.

Jake narrowed his eyes against the lowering sun, watching until Loren faded out of sight. _Maybe he's right… Just wish it coulda been an easier lesson is all._

He turned back towards the small double doors, seeing the bottle of whiskey next to the velvet chair.

"I ain't got a right, drowning my sorrows…" he took a quick breath, acting before he had time to reconsider, retrieving the bottle and moving quickly back outside as he opened it.

_Dr. Mike was right about that at least… just gonna make everything worse…_

He tipped the bottle upside down, exhaling as the contents seeped into the dry dirt of the road side.

**X.O.X**

"Anyone want more… besides Brian?" Matthew gestured to the large pot on the stove behind him.

"Nah," Colleen shrugged in disregard, having barely eaten more than two mouthfuls of the rabbit stew.

"Dr. Mike? Sully?" Matthew offered in turn, Brian getting to his feet eagerly.

Both shook their heads.

"All yours little brother…" he sighed, the little boy quickly spooning the remains of supper onto his plate.

"Thanks, Sully… dunno what we woulda done if ya ain't showed up." Colleen smiled weakly.

"No problem, figured ya'd be needin' somethin'." Sully muttered quietly, getting to his feet and beginning to collect the plates.

Matthew frowned, watching as Sully busied himself cleaning off the plates and carrying them to the basin. He looked across at Michaela, trying to tell whether she had noticed, however wasn't able to catch her eye.

Getting to his feet, he arrived at Sully's side, helping him clean off the plates and cutlery.

"Dr. Mike… all right if I go lie down for a bit?" Colleen spoke softly, leaning across Brian, who was consumed in finishing the stew.

"Of course, are you feeling ill?" Michaela studied the girl's face for a moment, observing that she was unusually pale.

"No," Colleen muttered, raising an eyebrow subtly.

Michaela nodded slowly, Colleen not sure whether it was in understanding or disinterest. Silently, Colleen left the table, disappearing through the white sheet.

Leaning forwards, Michaela rested her right elbow on the table, cupping her chin in her hand as she moved her gaze between Brian, Matthew and Sully.

"I don't think you're eating fast enough, young man," Michaela chastised softly, shaking her head as Brian barely chewed between gulps.

"S-sorry, Ma… I…" he swallowed quickly, afraid to be reprimanded for talking with his mouth full, "Just, it's real good stew... and it was thanks to Pup that we got it," he continued.

"How you figure that, Brian?" Matthew turned from next to Sully's side.

"Well… if Pup hadn't a made Colleen drop the eggs, then we wouldn't a been havin' stew. Would have to of had egg and bacon pie… except there weren't no bacon, so just woulda been egg, and tomato pie… _yuck_," Brian savored the last mouthful, before quickly pushing his chair back and handing his plate to Matthew.

"Ma… gonna go check on Taffy again… think she's been missin' me too…" he announced, departing through the front door in a jog crossed with a skip motion.

He finished helping Sully stack the dishes, intrigued by Sully's odd behavior, Matthew was about to question him on it, when Michaela rose to her feet, and silently crossed the room.

"Dr. Mike?" Matthew inquired, for she'd not uttered a word over supper, except if it was to reprimand Brian, or in answer to a direct question.

"I'm going to get some water… for the dishes," she replied dully, and stepped outside.

Matthew glared at Sully, expecting him to have immediately objected. Hearing the wooden door close after Michaela, Matthew turned directly to Sully, "What's put you in such a bad mood?"

Sully folded his arms, taking a step back from the basin. "Ain't nothin' ya gotta worry about," he deflected.

"Oh, fine." Matthew's disapproval only intensified, "Guess _I'll_ go help Dr. Mike with the water. You don't seem to give a damn," he shrugged, striding towards the door.

Sully merely sighed, looking away from Matthew, down at his clasped hands.

Halfway towards the large barrel of water, Michaela heard the sound of footsteps behind her.

"Sully, I'm perfectly," turning around, Michaela paused, surprised to see Matthew several yards away. "Oh… sorry, Matthew," she muttered quietly.

"Dr. Mike," he arrived in front of the barrel, lowering his voice, "What's up with Sully?"

Michaela sighed, reaching for the wooden bucket by her feet. She shook her head slowly, "What do you mean?"

"He's been actin' so strange; Left soon as we got home this afternoon, barely said two words over supper…" Matthew watched attentively as Michaela filled the bucket with water.

"It's probably my fault, Matthew," she spoke in a disheartened tone.

Matthew succeeded in taking the bucket from her. "Don't reckon so… he was like it when he arrived tonight," he reasoned, interrupted by the sound of the closing door behind him.

Both turned as Sully made his way out of the homestead.

"Gettin' the dishes started," Matthew mumbled, not making eye contact with Sully, as the two men crossed paths.

Michaela, unable to shield her discomfort, walked slowly from the water barrel, to cross Sully's path.

"Are you leaving already?" she gestured to the jacket slung over his right arm.

"Yeah… ah… pretty tired…" he answered awkwardly.

"Sully," Michaela hesitated, , seeing the evasiveness in his eyes. "Is everything all right? It's just, you haven't seemed-"

"It's nothin'…" He cleared his throat.

Sully still wasn't looking directly at her. She loathed it when he did that. "I don't understand. Is it because of this afternoon… in town?" Michaela arrived in front of him, forcing him to look at her.

"Town?" Sully frowned.

"I… I didn't stand my ground." Michaela spoke quickly, having looked away from him, "It… it just wasn't what I expected…" she stopped at the feeling of his hand upon her right shoulder.

"No… Michaela, it ain't you, I promise." Sully took a step closer.

Against the distant sound of crickets chirping, Michaela felt the night breeze blow refreshingly against the back of her neck. It was so good to be home.

"Sully, where were you?" she asked quietly.

He turned his head, looking out towards the scrub, illuminated by the full moon. "Gettin' supper…" he replied quickly, looking back at her with a dismissive smile.

"It took you four hours to check a trap?" she scrutinized.

Sully dropped his arm from her shoulder, taking a step away. Michaela hadn't realized she'd been leaning back against him until she had to readjust her footing quickly to avoid losing her balance.

"Sully? Where _were_ you?" she repeated, her tone much more demanding.

"Michaela… can we just leave it? Please?" He barely turned his head enough to look at her, absorbed in the dimly lit landscape before him.

"No, we can't. You wouldn't let me get away with withholding anything, so why should I let you?" She folded her arms even tighter across her chest.

"Sully!" she voiced louder.

He turned around, but still did not look at her.

"There's only one place you'd be and not want to talk to me about. What I don't understand, is why you'd think I'd not be able to work it out for myself." Michaela rationalized.

Sully alternated his glance between her and his feet, hesitating before he eventually answered, "Well, if ya know where I was, then… don't gotta tell ya," he shrugged, taking several steps away.

Fuming by this stage, she pivoted around on her left leg, arms pressing harder against her chest in anger.

"Sully," she stated, trying to remove all emotion from her voice. He at least stopped walking, although did not turn to her. "In the future, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me be the judge of what information might bother me or not. Because… there's very little anymore that would." Michaela tightened her jaw, feeling her back teeth grind together.

Sully slowly brought his gaze around to her, his voice cold, "After everything we've been through this last week, I ain't so sure a that. Figure it ain't worth the risk. 'Sides, nothin' to do with you," he considered his last statement a slight untruth, however, knew there was little his news would do, but cause her further distress.

"And who's decision is that?" she demanded assertively.

"Mine," he replied succinctly, swallowing and looking away from her. "'Night, Dr. Mike…"

Michaela frowned, as he continued walking away from the homestead, her eyes following his fading outline, until she could no longer see him.

_Dr. Mike? _She felt the trapped air expire from her lungs in an angered huff. Glancing down, Michaela brought her hand to the top of her stomach, gently rubbing her fingers against the movement she'd felt minutes earlier.

Michaela drew a long, replenishing breath. Her eyes dropped closed tiredly, reflecting on the long, uncomfortable day they'd all had.

_Sometimes he treats me like such a child…_

Michaela sighed, dropping her hand to her side as she turned and headed back towards to homestead to help Matthew with the dishes.

**X.O.X**

**Tuesday, 19****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"No!" Jake pushed the sweaty blanket away, sitting straight up as he awoke. Gasping for breath, he squinted, in an attempt to confirm his surroundings.

"Just… just a bad dream…" he muttered to himself, quickly getting to his feet and crossing to the basin of water against the other wall.

Splashing the cold liquid over his face, Jake tried to regulate his breathing, but was still haunted by the awful images from only moments earlier.

"I… I need to… I need to know…" he muttered, eyes darting around the room until he found his robe.

"Need to… check…" he stumbled determinedly down the stairs, a lantern in one hand.

"There was too much blood… gotta… be sure…" he struggled with the lock on the front door of his shop, eventually prizing it open, and stepping out onto the porch.

"Need… need to go… check… need… help," the fragmented words poured from his mouth, as he stumbled down the steps to the dusty road.

It was the small hours of the morning, and the streets were deserted; pitch-black but for the small lantern in his right hand.

"Horse… need to find…" Jake wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking around confused for a mode of transport.

Oblivious to his surroundings as well as the peculiarity of his behavior, Jake staggered further down the main road. He couldn't feel the cold wind against his face or hands, nor was he aware of the ground under his bare feet.

"Gotta find her… need help…" Still he continued, moving his lantern from side to side, desperate to find a horse within reach.

The only thing to stop him, was the light that came from an upstairs window of the Mercantile. _Loren._

"Be all right… Loren… he'll help me… he'll make it all right…" Jake's troubled, incoherent thoughts continued, and he increased his pace towards the light ahead.

It wasn't until several moments later, when he heard the door open, that Jake knew for sure he'd found help.

"Jake! Jake… what in heaven's name ya doin'?" Loren, a lantern gripped tightly, poked his head out of the door.

"Oh, Loren… knew… knew you'd help me… Something's wrong… I saw… I… we gotta hurry…" Jake rushed forwards, onto the porch of the general store.

"Jake, you realize what time it is… get back to bed!" Loren ordered, stepping out onto the porch to avoid having to talk too loudly.

"No, ya don't understand… Dr. Mike… she… we gotta get to her… she's in trouble…" Jake demanded, reaching forwards to grab the front of Loren's robe with his free hand.

"Jake… listen to me… the trouble Dr. Mike's in, ain't we gonna be able ta do nothin' to help," Loren paused, seeing the genuine horror in his friend's eyes.

"But I saw… we gotta hurry… be too late by mornin'," Jake pleaded.

Carefully reaching a hand to the younger man's shoulder, Loren lowered his voice, "Please Jake… come on, gotta trust me. You just had a bad dream… Nothin' more… Promise ya… Dr. Mike's fine…" Loren kept his voice evenly paced. _She darn well better be…_

"No… no she ain't…" Jake pressed, hyperventilating.

"Calm down, Jake… it's only a dream… ain't real. Dr. Mike's at home, with the children… anything happens, and they can come get help. You don't gotta worry about her, ya hear?" Loren patted Jake's shoulder, gesturing for him to go inside.

Entering the store, Loren relocked the door. He looked over to see that Jake had calmed down a bit.

"Yeah… maybe was only a dream… I… just seem so real, Loren… but I couldn't a seen her… I was at my place… now I'm here; Dr. Mike ain't in town… so… I couldn't a seen her," Jake reasoned, lucidity beginning to take over.

"That's right, Jake… ya just had another bad dream. Tell ya what… come upstairs… will get some blankets for ya… stay a few more hours till mornin'. So if ya have anymore bad dreams, I can talk some sense into ya," Loren directed the barber across the room and guided him carefully up the stairs.

"Loren?" Jake muttered, in a small, scared voice, "Was only a dream, weren't it?"

"Promise ya, Jake. Nothin' more than another bad dream. But I know one way a checkin'. Ya say Dr. Mike was in the dream?" Loren whispered, as they arrived at the top of the stairs.

"Yeah… I could see her lyin' there… weren't movin' or nothin'… tried to wake her up… then saw… all the blood… and… it was too late…" Jake held his breath, letting it out finally, in a horrified sigh.

"So ya saw her?" Loren helped Jake into his bedroom, sitting him down on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah… but she wouldn't wake up," Jake's eyes were wide, as he relived the nightmare.

"Did she look like she was havin' a baby, Jake?" Loren cleared his throat awkwardly, still not having had completely adjusted to the new reality.

"N-no… just looked like her normal self… and when I picked her up… was real light…" Jake put up no resistance as Loren carefully removed his robe.

"Then… only a dream. Coz I saw her today, Jake… and, well, sure didn't look like 'normal'," Loren informed glumly.

"Guess… guess it was just a dream… Know you wouldn't lie to me," Jake slowly settled himself back against the pillows, Loren draping the blankets up over him.

"That's right, Jake… you just rest there… be mornin' in just a few more hours…" Loren dimmed the lantern, and took a seat in the chair by the window.

He didn't get any acknowledgment for what felt like a long time.

"Loren…" Jake eventually spoke.

"Hmm?"

"Wish I knew what was happenin'… why I was gettin' these dreams. Sorry for botherin' ya…" Jake rolled over onto his side, nestling his head against the pillow.

"I dunno, Jake… reckon once you stay away from drinkin', will clear up, like last time." Loren yawned, settling himself down for what was left of the night.

Jake nodded to himself, closing his eyes, and forcing himself to ignore the petrifying images that invaded his mind.

"Thanks for helpin' me…" he whispered, receiving a tired grunt in response.


	89. Chapter 89

**Chapter 89**

"Hurry up there, Brian… we're gonna be late. That horse ain't gonna saddle itself!" Matthew adjusted Scout's reins, looking over at his younger brother who was still dawdling with the young mare's saddle blanket.

"Can't we just ride faster?" Brian shrugged, turning around and reaching for the polished saddle.

"No… got Colleen with us, remember?" Matthew raised an eyebrow, gesturing to Flash beside Scout.

"What about Ma?" Brian struggled with the heavy saddle, Matthew moving quickly to help him.

"She ain't comin' in Brian," he grabbed the saddle and took over preparing the young boy's horse, "you knew that."

"Was hopin' maybe she woulda changed her mind… Matthew? Ma's gonna be goin' back to work ain't she?" Brian fidgeted with the horse's reins, eventually draping them over the pommel.

Matthew sighed, turning to check they were alone. Taking a step closer, he rested a hand on Brian's shoulder.

"I hope so… but I don't know, Brian… ain't up to us… up to Dr. Mike… I know everythin's been real confusin' for you lately… but just the way things are gonna be for a while… Just have to make the best of it. You've got school… and your friends… Just gotta give it awhile to settle down…" Matthew tapped Brian's shoulder affectionately, as he removed his hand and helped the younger boy saddle the horse.

"What about the other kids, Matthew? They gonna start teasin' us again? Will the Reverend think I was bad coz I didn't go back to school… coz I missed heaps?" Brian bit his lower lip, suddenly worried.

"No, Brian… he'll understand. As for the others, don't you pay 'em no mind if they say anythin'. They don't understand, remember? Just ignore 'em." Matthew finished securing the saddle, taking Flash and Scout's reins and moving them towards the barn door.

"Guess so… I'll just stay with Colleen… and Steven, he won't say nothin' bad about Ma," Brian nodded, more confident. Reaching for the saddle, Brian climbed up on his horse.

"Yeah… see, will be fine. And, Brian… I'll be in town all mornin'… seein' Mr. Bray then havin' lunch with Ingrid at Grace's. So, if ya really need me… you'll know where I'll be," Matthew tried to reassure the young boy, however his words had the exact opposite effect.

"What 'bout Ma? She gonna be out here all by herself?" Brian frowned, the two boys walking the horses out into the yard.

"Brian… now don't start that… You just worry about yourself, all right?" Matthew glared at the young boy sternly.

"Well, then… can I go on ahead? You walk with Colleen?" Brian whined, eagerly moving Taffy ahead of Scout, as the homestead door opened, and Colleen emerged, several books in her arms.

"No, Brian… You'll just stay with us. Hey Colleen… got Flash all ready…" Matthew smiled, watching as she walked slowly across the porch.

"Flash? Where's the wagon? I said I don't like ridin' that…" Colleen sighed, stopping when she saw Matthew's deliberate frown.

"She needs the exercise… and you need the practice. Never know when you're gonna need to ride into town in a hurry or somethin'…" Matthew smiled, handing her the reins.

"Yeah, with the luck this family's havin'," she rolled her eyes, looking suspiciously at the horse, "You just behave, ya hear?" she bargained worriedly.

Brian's face lit up as he noticed Michaela step out onto the porch, arms folded against her dressing gown.

"Matthew, where am I meant to put these?" Colleen complained, looking between the books in her hand and the horse.

"Here… I'll take em. Can tuck 'em in my jacket," Matthew leant over and grabbed the books, throwing another annoyed glare at his sister.

"Fine, and lunch?" she raised an eyebrow, the metal lunch tin in her right hand.

"Just put it over the pommel, like I did… see?" Brian announced proudly, raring to get going.

Colleen sighed once again, hesitantly mounting the horse, "Really, Matthew, couldn't we a just taken the wagon?" she growled in a low voice, pushing Flash into a slow walk.

"No, we couldn't… just hush will ya?" his voice was lowered for his reply.

"Don't ya tell me to hush… just who do you think," Colleen walked the horse next to Matthew, raising her voice angrily.

Matthew quickly spoke over her, "Go on, Brian… you lead!"

"Bye, Ma!" Brian waved, giving Taffy an encouraging squeeze.

"Slow down," Michaela smiled, as she watched Brian's deliberate, yet amusing, performance.

"Yes, Ma…" he pulled the horse into a spirited trot, still well ahead of Colleen and Matthew.

"Matthew, why you gotta do things without tellin' me," Colleen groused, the two older children walking the horses behind Brian.

"Leave it, yeah?" he silenced, avoiding any further discussion by moving Scout into a trot, "Gonna get you little brother!" he teased.

"Oh, great…" Colleen sighed, her brothers moving quickly into the distance, "Just what I feel like doin'… ridin' a horse…" She reluctantly pushed the horse into a gentle trot, Flash more than obliging after many weeks of stable confinement.

Michaela stood on the porch, watching until the three children were out of sight. She turned at the sound of a low whining noise.

Looking down, she noticed the wolf approach from the doorway.

"You miss Brian already, Pup?" she smiled, bending down to stroke the top of his head.

"He'll be back this afternoon… come on," she encouraged, patting the animal as he slowly walked back inside.

Closing the door, Michaela look across the room. With the exception of a small pile of plates left over from breakfast, it was spotless.

Moving across the room, she pushed the curtain aside, peering into the children's sleeping area. Even Brian had made his bed.

She sighed, looking back at the pile of breakfast dishes.

_Is this what my life is going to be from now on? _Michaela slowly started the dishes, pausing every few moments to gaze out through the window.

_I feel as if everything's just been put on hold… everyone else is able to carry on with their lives… Sully… the children… I'm just… here…_

Drying her hands quickly on the cloth, Michaela began wiping the few plates.

_There is nothing stopping you from going back to work, Michaela… _she lowered her head as the thought festered. _Oh, no? There's everything stopping me… I can't go back there… it will be just like yesterday… Or worse, people will be deliberately making a fuss… Like Jake and Hank… and the rest… So desperate to prove to me that they don't mind… that it doesn't change things._

Michaela tossed the damp cloth onto the bench and placed the dried plates away.

Without being aware of it, she began aimlessly pacing around the small cabin; from the side door across to her dressing area, around the bed, back to the children's sleeping area. It wasn't until the third lap that she realized.

"This is ridiculous," she murmured, Pup quickly jumping up from his splayed position next to the table and sniffing her right hand.

"Oh, thanks for the support…" Michaela rolled her eyes, patting the young wolf on the head once again.

"I wish I knew why I was so eager before… why treating patients meant so much," Again the wolf licked her hand. "I don't know if I'm afraid of them… or if I simply don't want to go back… there doesn't seem to be a point… life goes on regardless; people die… become ill; and life doesn't care… it just goes on." Michaela looked from her medical bag on the mantel, before pulling out a wooden chair from the table and taking a seat. "Life doesn't care how hard we work… or whether we are honest. It doesn't seem to make any difference whether you are a good person or not," the wolf responded by nuzzling her right knee.

_There are so many things I wanted; that I believed would give me a fulfilled, happy life… my work… my family… I look back now, and I have all those things… but…_ Michaela exhaled slowly, not bothering to finish the thought.

Slowing the horse, Dorothy veered along the uneven path which led up to the homestead. She took a deep breath as she brought the horse to a stop, and dismounted carefully.

After securing the horse to the wooden rail, Dorothy took the three steps tentatively up to the porch. She was surprised Michaela hadn't heard her approach. Dorothy frowned, as she neared the front door. Still nothing.

Then suddenly she heard barking coming from inside. Dorothy shook her head, if a wolf was inside… then Michaela must be…

She cleared her throat and gave three sound knocks against the solid door.

Nothing.

Michaela remained frozen to the chair, only moving enough to pat Pup on the head. He ceased his defensive barking.

"Michaela… it's Dorothy…" Dorothy stated clearly, pretty sure that there was someone other than the wolf behind the door.

_Ssh. Just stay still… stay quiet and she will go away… _Michaela removed her hand from the wolf's head, locking her fingers together in her lap.

Dorothy knocked again, a little louder.

"Michaela? I just wanted to come see how you're doin'," Dorothy beckoned, pushing gently on the wooden door, hoping it might simply open.

_Why won't she go away… I don't want to see her… _she corrected herself unconsciously, _that's not exactly true… I don't want her to see me… _Michaela squinted her eyes closed, not moving a muscle for fear it would give her presence away.

Dorothy sighed when the door did not budge.

"Michaela, please… it's… it's just me," she stressed nervously, "I'm worried about you," Dorothy continued, as an alternative idea came to mind.

Dorothy turned and quietly paced across the porch, down the steps, and towards the side door.

Michaela hadn't realized she'd held her breath, until she exhaled in a relieved sigh._ She's gone. _Her eyes opened, expecting to hear the sounds of a horse trotting away. There was nothing.

Pup immediately launched into a series of growls and barks, rising to his four paws, as the door in front of him opened.

Michaela startled, her shocked gasp combining with Dorothy's announcement, "Michaela?" She slipped inside, noticing the petrified look on her friend's face. "I'm sorry, I thought the door might be open… I… knew you'd be here…" she looked away, feeling guilty.

The wolf's barking abated as Michaela brought her hands from her lap, to the table.

Dorothy remained silent as she closed the door and walked slowly into the cabin. "Michaela, I heard barking… I knew someone had to be at home… Besides, after yesterday, got the impression ya wouldn't a said yes even if I'd told you I was plannin' to come out."

_How dare she just barge in here… I don't want her here… I don't want anybody here…_

"Then, perhaps that should have _told _you something, Dorothy… I don't wish to see you," Michaela looked away as she spoke, she couldn't bear the look on Dorothy's face. It was pity… Nothing but pity.

"I understand, Michaela… but I'm your friend… I thought I was your _best_ friend. Surely… you know I only want to help." Dorothy tentatively eyed the wolf, waiting until he sat back down, before she made her way to the table, taking a seat in the chair to the right of Michaela's.

"I don't need your help," Michaela spoke flatly, making a deliberate effort not to meet eyes with the older woman.

Dorothy nodded, "I know, Michaela. But I know what you've been through… Olive spoke to me the day Sully and the children left… she told me everything," Dorothy softened her voice, leaning closer, "Why didn't you tell me… I… I wished I'd been able to help," she altered her word immediately, "to support you…"

Michaela shook her head slowly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're certainly not helping me now, barging in here as you did."

"Michaela, I'm trying to help… you can't just shut yourself away out here… on your own," Dorothy spoke calmly.

"Why not," Michaela sighed miserably, "They don't need me…"

"That's not true, Michaela. Besides… you've got friends who miss you. Myra was heartbroken when she heard you might not come home… so was Loren. And I need you, Michaela. I miss going to morning tea or lunch with you," Dorothy trailed off, the room falling silence.

Dorothy saw Michaela's shoulders rise, her jaw tensing as she concentrated desperately on a nonspecific spot on the wall.

"Michaela?" Dorothy leaned closer towards her, slowly bringing her hand to Michaela's right shoulder. "I know you don't wanna go through this on your own…"

Dorothy watched intently, as Michaela clenched her jaw tighter. Studying her empty eyes, she saw them begin to glisten. Dorothy frowned, remaining silent.

Michaela didn't blink, didn't move an inch.

Finally, the silence was broken, "You don't know anything, Dorothy," she whispered, her voice breathy and constricted. Michaela blinked, a single tear running from her left eye.

"Oh, Michaela… why won't you let anyone help you?" Dorothy stood quickly, moving to her friend's side, placing her hands over Michaela's, on each upper arm.

"Because there's nothing that will help," Michaela drew a breath, blinking again. Another teardrop trickled down from her right eye.

"That's not true, sweetheart. Your friends… we can support you… be there to listen… Nobody who counts will judge you, Michaela. You don't have to be afraid of that," Dorothy knelt down beside her. Michaela's hands, now interlocked with Dorothy's, fell to her lap.

"You're only saying that. You don't know what it's like; how humiliated I feel, how embarrassed…" her voice was thin, clouded by the tears which still collected in her eyes.

"I do, Michaela. How do you think I felt every time I came to town? A black eye… split lip; there was always something I had to hide… And having to make up endless excuses, that was the worst. By the end, I knew people didn't believe me; Maude, Olive… I was so angry at both of them," Dorothy became lost in her own memories.

Michaela turned suddenly, looking at the woman beside her. "I don't understand?"

"You see, Olive never thought I was good enough for Loren. She was glad I rejected his proposal… And Maude… I was so jealous of her. She had everything I could have had; a happy home and a loving husband… But worst of all, she felt _sorry_ for me. All those years… when we were having our children, we'd meet now and then in town… and she'd _look_ at me… I knew she knew about Marcus… I knew most people knew. Even you, Michaela," Dorothy smiled softly, "You gave me that same look. So I know what it's like to feel humiliated. And pity only makes it worse…" Dorothy squeezed Michaela's hands softly.

"I didn't want to come back, Dorothy," Michaela lowered her eyes, looking down at the older woman's hands, wrinkled and rough with years of hard work, against her own.

"I know. When Olive told me… I… was so frightened for you… And I was confused. Just as you couldn't understand why I stayed married to Marcus all those years, I couldn't understand how you could contemplate… something which I had always considered a sin," Dorothy continued quickly, worried that Michaela would think she disapproved. "But, after a few days… when I really thought about everything… what you've been through… I realized, my judging your actions was the same as everyone looking at me, whispering under their breaths, wondering why I could stay married to such a man. I still don't know how I managed to love someone… who hurt me so much…" Dorothy had kept her eyes on their intertwined hands, until that last sentence. "So, I think I understand why you left…" Dorothy studied Michaela's face, as she stood from her crouched position by the table. She gently patted Michaela's right arm, as she rose.

"Dorothy?" Michaela looked down, blinking several times as she tried to think of what she wanted to ask.

"Mmm?" the older woman had been about to suggest they have a cup of tea, but turned quickly back to her friend's side.

"How… how did you? Love him, I mean… How did you not hate him? I never understood that," Michaela whispered.

Dorothy paused, to think of a truthful answer.

"I suppose, I separated who he was. Almost made him into two different people. I loved the man I'd married… that was the father of my children… and then… there was another side to him. I only saw that side when he'd been drinking. I knew they were the same person, but I found a way to forget about the bad side of him when he was sober. I spent so many years convincing myself that the man who could cause me so much pain, was not the same person I'd married – that I almost came to believe it myself." Dorothy watched Michaela take in her words, realizing after a moment that she had an ulterior motive behind her questions.

"I think my sister was trying to explain the same concept to me…" Michaela looked up at Dorothy with a grateful smile.

"I don't understand? Michaela… we knew you'd gone to Boston, but seeing your family was the last thing any of us," Dorothy took a seat again.

"I… hadn't planned to, Dorothy. I…" she looked away, remembering the sequence of events that had taken place in such a short period of time. "I did something very foolish… and I ended up in hospital. It was Brian who asked that my eldest sister be contacted." Michaela's eyes began to glaze over at the memory.

"Michaela, that must have been just awful," she stated honestly.

"No, actually it wasn't so bad. Rebecca and I have always been very close. Closer than Mother, really. And she was discrete. I stayed with her until Sully and the children arrived. I don't know how they found me," Michaela inhaled sharply, remembering the nauseating scent of the chloroform. "But I'm glad they did," Michaela swallowed, wiping her moist eyes.

"Michaela, Olive told me you'd left to, end the pregnancy…" Dorothy phrased awkwardly, quickly continuing, "but you didn't… What changed your mind?"

Michaela frowned, idly brushing some breakfast crumbs from the side of the table. "There were many reasons… I came close, several times, but in the end, I couldn't settle it with my conscience… and I couldn't risk something happening to me. By putting my life in jeopardy – I was contradicting the one reason I chose to stay alive before," Michaela continued awkwardly, "And I couldn't live with that guilt."

"But what about your family? I remember you said they wouldn't understand… that it was different?" Dorothy clasped her hands together in her lap.

"The way events unfolded, I didn't have any choice. By the time I regained consciousness, the doctors already knew. Rebecca had arrived… and they'd informed her of my condition. Since she knew that, it didn't seem to matter what else she knew… Brian told her…" Michaela shook her head, almost amused, in a cynical way, as she reflected on the series of events.

"Brian? Michaela, he's so young, how does he understand?" Dorothy looked momentarily horrified, quickly recalling the conversation she'd had with him many months earlier.

"Sully said you told him," Michaela looked up, her tone soft.

"Well, I… I tried to explain… Michaela that was months ago… how could he possibly," Dorothy stopped at Michaela's raised eyebrow.

"Brian is one very intelligent little boy, Dorothy." She shook her head dismissively, "It doesn't matter… it's best he know the truth. Ignorance only makes him more vulnerable." Michaela dropped her eyes closed wearily for a moment.

"I suppose… it just seems so awful…" Dorothy's words lingered. Quickly, she decided to redirect the conversation. "I figured you'd have a lot to do, and Loren's insistent I spend some time with you. So, what needs to be done?" Dorothy clapped her hands together, eager to get down to work.

"I…" Michaela looked around, shaking off the conversation, "There's quite a bit of washing to be done… I suppose I was going to start there…" she shrugged, as Dorothy rose quickly to her feet.

"That's settled then. Shall we? And then I'll fix us some lunch… you can take a nap. What else do you," Michaela cut her off.

"Dorothy… I'll accept your help on one condition;" Michaela waited for a quick nod, "that you don't treat me like an invalid. I spent the last week being mollycoddled, and waited on; it's the last thing I want here…"

"Now Michaela… I had three children of my own, I know exactly how tiring a pregnancy is. I don't want you overdoing it," Dorothy pushed her chair neatly back under the table.

"Dorothy… I'm a doctor. I've delivered over ten times the number of babies you've had. I'm rather well versed on what I should and shouldn't do." Michaela folded her arms confidently.

"Can we strike a compromise? I won't harp if you'll promise to take a rest when you need it?" Dorothy bargained as Michaela rose to her feet.

"I promise, Dorothy," Michaela nodded, gesturing towards her dressing area. The odd utterances passed between them, as they moved about the small homestead, collecting various items of clothing.

**X.O.X**

"All right, children… does anyone have any more suggestions for the events on Sunday?" the Reverend looked around the classroom as he spoke, paying particular attention to Brian and Colleen, who had been exchanging glances all morning.

"Do we have a three-legged race?" Steven spoke up, eagerly.

"Ah, yes, we do…" the Reverend looked down at the piece of paper in his hands, "have you another idea, instead, Steven?" he encouraged, as the normally enthusiastic child had been very quiet since recess.

"Ah… hmm… how about something, where we try to jump and far as we can? And the person who can jump the longest wins…" he shrugged.

"Excellent, Steven… that makes eight events. That should be plenty. Now, do you think we should have some special events for your parents? Missy, what do you think?" Timothy had noticed Missy and Alice whispering in the back row, and quickly drew attention to them.

"Oh.. ah… I don't know, Reverend… My Ma ain't really keen on sports. Maybe we could get the Pa's to do wood choppin'? My Pa thinks he's real good at that," Missy talked her way out of trouble.

"That's a very good idea, Missy. Perhaps if you weren't talking so often in the future, we'd hear more of them," the Reverend made his point, realizing it was well and truly time for lunch. "I think that's an excellent list, children. So we'll break for lunch now, and go through our new spelling list this afternoon," Timothy leaned back against his desk, watching in fascination as the children scrambled to varying degrees for the back door. He was always intrigued at how much he could deduce about a particular child, from their behavior outside of formal class times. As predicted, Benjamin and Cal raced for the door, Alice stood, and 'summoned' her small group of friends around her, with nothing more than the simple raising of her eyebrows.

Becky and Colleen closed their books and wiped down their slates, neither in a hurry to get outside. The one child however, to catch the Reverend's attention on this particular day, was Brian. Instead of eagerly pushing his way through the hoards, with Steven in tow, the young boy watched as his friend hurried outside, before quietly wandering over to his sister. They exchanged words briefly, before both girls, and Brian moved towards the door.

The Reverend shook his head slowly, remembering Olive's conversation from the previous week. With a tired sigh, he turned and collected his lunch from his desk.

**X.O.X**

"Afternoon, Grace," Myra smiled, as she looked around the crowded tables of the café.

"Just you today?" Grace enquired directly, her voice sharp.

"Well, I… guess so… Horace's busy workin'… was hopin' Dorothy'd be here…" Myra scanned the tables yet again.

"Heard she's out at Dr. Mike's. 'Least that's what Loren mentioned this mornin'… you gonna take a seat or ain't ya?" Grace demanded, keeping an eye on the steaming vegetables behind her.

"I suppose," Myra muttered, Grace about to show her to a table, when the younger woman had a change of heart. "Actually, Grace… I… might leave it. There's someone I gotta go see first," Myra apologized, moving quickly away from the tables.

"I wouldn't go botherin' Dr. Mike, if that's what ya had in mind," Grace warned, her voice acquiring a bitter edge.

"Weren't gonna… why'd you say it like that?" Myra frowned, confused.

"Matthew," Grace indicated to the couple finishing their lunches at the far table, "Apparently Dr. Mike ain't really eager to head back into town… Said he don't know when she'll be goin' back to work…" Grace moved quickly back to the vegetables, which were threatening to boil over.

Myra looked between Matthew and Grace, before deciding to continue the conversation. Arriving next to Grace, she lowered her voice, "Grace… you heard, didn't ya? I mean… about yesterday. About Dr. Mike?"

Grace, two plates of roast beef in her hands, interjected harshly, "heard she's back," she scurried away to a nearby table, ensuring her customers were content, before walking back to the stove.

"That all you heard?" Myra fidgeted with her hands, first in front of her, then behind. She didn't abide gossip, but then this was different.

"Well, Myra, I do have a business to run, ain't got the time to just stand around chattin'… like some," Grace barely glanced back to Myra, as she quickly sliced a loaf of bread.

"No, Grace… this is important. Didn't Robert E. tell ya?"

"What on earth could Robert E. have to tell me that was so important?" Grace spooned the hot vegetables onto the plates, placing the sliced pieces of bread on the edges.

"After yesterday… though he woulda told ya 'bout Dr. Mike. After all, he looked more upset than anyone else," Myra shrugged, expecting Grace to dismiss her hastily.

Grace turned her head away from the plates, to glare up at Myra, "He ain't said more than two words to me all night. Tried askin' what was wrong… thought maybe he was gettin' sick… wouldn't talk to me," Grace maintained eye contact with the younger woman.

"He's probably real upset. Horace was the same all evenin'. Kept lookin' at me, then lookin' away, thought I didn't notice. It's coz a Dr. Mike, Grace. Coz a her havin' this baby… Reckon they all feel… responsible… I dunno. Between Robert E. and Horace… reckon they're more upset than we are," Myra sighed sadly, assuming that Grace knew.

"What… baby?" Grace said the word awkwardly, the subject a little too close to home for her, especially knowing that the woman standing opposite her had also had her dreams fulfilled so easily.

Myra merely turned her head slightly, not sure where to look. "You ain't heard, did ya?" she muttered flatly.

"The last I heard anyone talk about a baby was when you and Horace were here for lunch yesterday," Grace looked back at the four lunch plates, about to reach for them, when Myra continued.

"That's why she left, Grace. Didn't no-one know. She's at least a month further along than me… and, well, can't exactly hide it any longer… so, just thought you'd a heard about it yesterday. That's probably why Dorothy's out there this mornin'. Apparently Dr. Mike didn't take all the attention too well, yesterday… and from what Horace said, don't sound like she's ready to leave the homestead, yet." Myra watched, as Grace's bitterness and impatience melted away, her moth opening in disbelief.

"But… she's gotta be five months or so… she's known for months…" Grace brought her right hand to her mouth as she looked up, and then slowly back to Myra. "Dear, God… and all I've been goin' on about is how unfair my life is… What did she leave for, anyway?" Grace managed to recover from the shock, resting her right hand on her hip.

"No-one's really discussin' it... but I heard from Dorothy that," Myra trailed off for a moment, seeing the tables full of townspeople. She looked back at Grace, deciding the specifics should best be kept to herself, "that, she ah, had to see a doctor. You know, make sure everythin' was all right," she recovered quickly, and from the serious look on Grace's face, she'd not suspected anything from Myra's quick stuttering.

"Oh… I.. I see," Grace nodded, as she turned and reached for the plates yet again. She blinked, looking down, and then turned quickly back to Myra, as if complete understanding had just set in. "Oh, Lord… what… what's gonna happen? With the baby I mean? She ain't gonna… keep it, surely?" Grace's eyes widened, as her gaze locked onto Myra's.

"Really, I… don't know, Grace. Ain't even spoken to her about it, coz none of us found out till after she'd gone. From what I heard, she's takin' it real bad… guess anyone would. I wouldn't expect she'd keep it. I can only imagine what it'd be like… I'm whinin' to Horace enough as it is… at least I've got him to blame," Myra sighed, lowering her gaze miserably.

"It's just such a horrible mess…" Grace looked around at the townspeople seated nearby, noticing one man get to his feet when he saw her, "I… I'm just comin', sir," Grace turned quickly back to Myra, "I'm sorry, gotta get back to servin'. I… I'll take some supper 'round for Dr. Mike and the children tonight… of what help that'll be," Grace shook her head, as she reached for the plates and nodded a goodbye to Myra.

**X.O.X**

Colleen and Becky sat, perched on the long, fallen trunk of an oak tree. Becky finished her sandwich, whilst Colleen's lunch sat, untouched in her lap.

"Hey, Colleen… I… don't think it's Dr. Mike's fault… I don't care what nobody else says," Becky spoke softly, reaching for her friend's arm.

"Huh? Oh… yeah, well, why would you?" Colleen came out of her daydream and turned to her friend.

"Well, just what people been sayin'… I dunno… just coz they don't know any better. My Ma and Pa were talkin' last night… I tried to explain what we learnt in science with Miss Chambers… but Ma says that's rubbish… that it's God who decides when you get to have a baby."

Colleen sighed noisily, her chin in her hands. She was eager to change the subject, however, even more frustrated by Becky's mother's ignorance, "That ain't true, Becky… that's just what people say when they don't get a baby… like Miss Grace. Ain't got nothin' to do with God. More like Satan," she finished under her breath. Frustrated and sick of her friend's conversation, Colleen rose to her feet.

"Hey, wait… What'd I say? I said I didn't believe what my Ma," Becky reached for Colleen's wrist.

"I don't care, Becky." Colleen stopped and drew a breath, "Look… don't care what your Ma said or didn't say. Don't care what you think… Don't care what this whole town thinks!" Colleen bellowed to the group of boys sniggering and pointing in her direction.

"Colleen, I'm sorry…" Becky whispered, seeing Colleen's face redden.

"It's okay. Just… been a hard couple a weeks. What with goin' away… gettin' back… everyone findin' out." Colleen bent down to pick up the sandwich that had fallen from her lap.

"I know… at least Brian and Steven made up? Thought he was gonna spend the whole a lunch with us," Becky smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, although Steven's a little pest… don't blame Brian for gettin' sick a him," Colleen grumbled.

Becky and Colleen began walking slowly from the back of the schoolhouse, down the side, neither really knowing where they were heading.

"Colleen… is Dr. Mike really gonna have a baby? All on her own?" Becky chewed awkwardly on her lower lip.

Colleen huffed, incensed by her friend's narrow-mindedness. "No, Becky, of course she's not – 'single women can't have babies' – for heaven's sake you're as bad as my nine year-old cousin! I mean, what on earth were you thinking?" Colleen gaped, bewildered.

"I," Becky looked away, embarrassed, "I guess I was thinkin'… well Dr. Mike and Sully were courtin'… just figured they'd get married… save all the gossip," Becky suggested simply, never having seen Colleen in such a state.

"Have you ever considered for one moment, that maybe Dr. Mike's got other things to worry about right now, than the gossip? Becky… she nearly _died_ in Boston… you really got no idea. None of us care one bit about what _looks_ good. Dr. Mike ain't nowhere near ready to marry Sully… ain't you even thought that through?" Colleen folded her arms tightly, feeling bloated, sore and enraged, wanting nothing more than a warm cloth and her bed.

"Okay… I'm sorry…" Becky tried to reached for Colleen's hands, the older girl storming away too quickly. "Colleen, said I was sorry… where ya goin'?" Becky watched as Colleen focused her attention on the brawl that seemed to be taking place in the middle of the schoolyard.

"Brian!" she recognized her brother immediately, just as he pushed Steven to the ground.

Running over, Colleen saw that the fight consisted of more than just Brian and Steven.

"Come to defend ya little brother, Colleen?" Cal sized her up, his hands on his hips.

"Brian Cooper!" she did her best to ignore the provocation, gasping as Steven pulled himself to his feet, delivering a decent blow to Brian's chest.

"My Ma says that havin' a baby when you ain't married's a sin, and my Pa says it only happens to bad women…" Steven grabbed Brian's upper arms, the two boys continuing their wrestling.

"Ain't true… your folks don't know nothin'! Ain't my fault if you got really dumb parents, who don't know nothin' about medical stuff." Brian pushed against Steven, squeezing his fingers tight around the other boy's shoulders.

"You can't call my Ma and Pa dumb! Now you're gonna really get it!" Steven bellowed, adjusting his feet, to get leverage over Brian.

"But they are! Just coz my Ma's the smartest lady in town, ain't my fault… You shoulda asked God to give ya smarter parents!" Brian retorted.

"Oh yeah, so if you're Ma's so smart, how come she got a baby without gettin' a husband first!" Cal jeered, several of the older boys had run over by this stage, to witness the brawl.

"Coz she got hurt… now _let go_, Steven… or I'll get you good," Brian narrowed his eyes, determined to defend his mother's reputation no matter how many bruises it cost him.

"Nah, Cal's right, Cooper… your Ma's just a whore!" Benjamin spat, knowing it wasn't true, but enjoying the effect it was having on the younger children.

"Stop it, stop it!" Brian pushed Steven away, turning, with the full intention of taking on the rest of the class, if need be.

"Brian! What you doin'?" Colleen arrived, out of breath, between Brian and the older boys.

"They're sayin' bad stuff, Colleen. Can't you tell 'em? Tell 'em it weren't Ma's fault, Colleen. _Please_," Brian looked up at her, his face bright red and beads of perspiration forming on his brow.

"They're just bein' dumb, Brian… don't know any better," Colleen glared at the offending boys, wrapping her arm around Brian's shoulder.

"That's right, Cooper… get the girl to defend ya... Brian's just a little baby," Cal laughed, several of the younger boys catching on quickly.

"Brian's a baby… Brian's a baby…" they teased.

Brian looked between Colleen and Benjamin, eyebrows narrowed and lips pouted in fury.

"I wish you weren't all so stupid!" he yelled, pushing past Steven and breaking out into a run.

Colleen watched, mouth open, as Brian headed towards the bridge.

"Aww, Colleen… he can't even stay to defend himself… leaving the girl to do all the work? Then again... that's kinda common in your family, ain't it?" Benjamin couldn't keep a straight face, as several of the older boys caught onto his joke.

"You tell her, Ben… Hey, Colleen… We always knew Dr. Mike was clever, didn't know she could perform miracles…" Cal shrugged, his wisecrack having the enraging effect on Colleen he'd hoped for.

"I agree with Brian," she folded her arms tightly, "You really are all as stupid as you look," she fumed, taking a step forward, as Benjamin grabbed her shoulders.

"Hey, Colleen, was only teasin'," he tried to soften the blow.

"Let go a me," she glared, squirming from his grasp and moving into a run in pursuit of Brian.

"You guys really done it this time," Becky sighed, as the small gathering watched Brian and Colleen run from the schoolyard, across the meadow, and over the bridge.

"We were only jokin', Becky… those two take everythin' too serious," Benjamin defended the group's behavior.

"If that were jokin', I'd hate to see what you were like if you were really tryin' to hurt someone's feelin's," she chastised, striding quickly to the schoolhouse, to inform the Reverend of the events.


	90. Chapter 90

**Chapter 90**

Matthew and Ingrid slowly sipped on their glasses of apple cider, each eyeing the other nervously, neither knowing quite how to begin the conversation. Simple words of affection and relief had been shared quickly as they took their seats, however after ordering, the conversation had ceased.

Seeing Matthew lock and then unlock his hands together on the table, Ingrid studied his awkward, shifting gaze. She knew he was trying to hold it together. For her.

"Matthew, why you not tell me you leave?" Ingrid kept her tone neutral.

Matthew looked directly at her, at the sound of her light, nervous voice. He reached across the table to clasp her hand, not knowing quite where to start.

"I'm sorry; shouldn't a left without tellin' ya. Was… was just that we had to leave in such a hurry… and didn't wanna make it too obvious. Didn't want no-one askin' questions." Matthew sighed, grateful that Ingrid had broken the ice.

"Matthew, Miss Dorothy tell me about the baby… That be why Dr. Mike leave?" she studied his face, her expression remaining soft.

"Yeah… somethin' like that… Ingrid, sorry… I… still ain't findin' this easy to talk about… So much happened while we were away," he paused, his mind going back over the poignant conversation he'd had with Michaela at Rebecca's. Matthew swallowed, remembering his mother's final question.

"I know." Ingrid noticed his discomfort, "Matthew you not have to talk about this… we can talk about other things,"

Matthew smiled, looking back at her, gently squeezing her hand. Somehow, despite her young age, and the language barrier, Ingrid always had a way of knowing what he needed. How he was feeling.

"Ingrid… there is something I… I need to talk with you about," he began, having had many long hours on the train and stage back from Boston the previous week in which to ponder their future.

Ingrid leaned forwards, looking down at their interlocked hands. "What it be, Matthew?"

"It's… it's about Dr. Mike... about everything that's happened. I… I know I said I'd have the homestead finished by Christmas, and we'd be married, but… I," Matthew stumbled, hating to go back on his word, to the woman he cared so much about.

"You not want to be married? Matthew, I not understand," Ingrid's voice ascended in pitch, her eyes widening in worry.

"No, _no, _Ingrid. I still want to get married, I love you, and there's nothin' gonna change that. I just… at the moment, well, Dr. Mike ain't gonna have the baby 'til February, and I'm worried 'bout her. Don't wanna leave Colleen and Brian there alone. Wanna be able to help out. Feel like I needa be there… that we needa be together as a family just a bit longer. Till everything settles down, some more," Matthew stroked the back of Ingrid's right hand, feeling how soft her skin was.

"I understand, Matthew…" she whispered, seeing him exhale in relief.

"You sure?" he pressed.

Ingrid nodded tentatively, "I be sure. You need be with family until everything back to normal. And maybe I help too? I can work on weekends, help with laundry?" she offered keenly.

Matthew smiled, always amazed at how unselfish Ingrid was. "That'd be great. Only if you got time… know how busy you are with your brother and sisters,"

"It be fine…" she smiled, slipping her hand from his grasp as Grace placed their lunches in front of them on the table.

"Thanks, Grace," Matthew smiled, glimpsing the steaming roast beef on his plate.

"Ain't no bother," Grace murmured, placing her hand on Matthew's right shoulder for a moment. "Matthew, come past when you're leavin' for the day, I was gonna prepare a basket for ya Ma… all right?" she rubbed his upper arm, waiting for a reply.

"Oh… thanks, that'd be great," he nodded, hungrily grasping his knife and fork as she returned to the stove.

"I missed this place, ya know," Matthew began slicing the succulent, gravy-soaked piece of beef.

"You did?" Ingrid daintily placed her napkin in her lap, looking up at him a little confused.

"Yeah… in Boston we stayed with Aunt Rebecca… and they have servants, so you didn't have to do anythin', but… weren't like bein' here. They did everything for ya, coz it was their job, but the people here do things to help ya, because they're friends… Just different," Matthew reflected, before commencing to eat.

"Dr. Mike come back because of the friends here?" Ingrid slowly slipped a small piece of roast beef into her mouth.

Matthew frowned, considering Ingrid's question. "You know, I think so. I think that's what finally convinced her. At first I thought Sully just wanted her back, so he could take care a her, but then… realized it really was the right thing," Matthew replied, both returning their attention to their lunches.

**X.O.X**

"Always knew years of struggling to feed five people on the money Marcus gave me would come in handy; doesn't take me too long to put together a meal at short notice." Dorothy proudly set their lunches on the table, taking a seat and sipping on a glass of water.

"I don't know how you do it, honestly. I have enough trouble succeeding with a recipe when I've planned the dish out days in advance." Michaela congratulated, reaching for the spoon on the table.

"Oh, Michaela, well don't you worry… the two a us got plenty a time to work on that. I'll have you cookin' better than Colleen in no time." Dorothy teased, slowly sipping on the hot vegetable soup in front of her.

"There speaks someone who's never sampled my cooking." Michaela took a hesitant taste, "but you'll certainly need to teach me this one, it's delicious," she savored.

"Michaela, that was just the vegetables in the garden, few spices," she smiled weakly, "So, what else needs doing?" Dorothy looked around the small cabin, in between mouthfuls of soup.

"I really don't think there's anything left. Funny, I always wished for more time to help Colleen with the chores, now that I have it, it doesn't seem all that appealing," Michaela muttered glumly.

"Well, Matthew takes care of the animals, doesn't he?" Dorothy inquired, Michaela nodded quickly, "Well then… I'll do a couple a chores whilst you have a nap. The washing oughta be dry by then, just enough time to get it folded and put away before the children get home from school," Dorothy planned eagerly.

"Dorothy, I don't need a nap… I'm fine. I've done nothing but sleep for the last five days anyway," Michaela objected, realizing that her days were going to be very empty without work.

"Uh-uh, we made a deal, remember? 'Sides, you're hardly up to milking that cow, now are you," Dorothy raised an eyebrow, noticing that Michaela seemed to be far away in her thoughts. "Michaela?"

"Oh, sorry…" she diverted her attention back to the lunch before her, finishing the soup slowly.

**X.O.X**

"How was it, while we were away? Everything all right?" Matthew placed his cutlery together in the centre of his plate, looking towards Ingrid.

"Oh… everything fine." She lowered her head, "Except I worry for you. People talk… Miss Dorothy tell about Dr. Mike… and Myra and I worry," Ingrid recollected, delicately wiping her hands in the nearby napkin.

Matthew sighed, looking away. As he absent-mindedly gazed across at the nearby tables, he noticed several heads turn.

"Ingrid… let's go shall we?" he muttered, pushing his chair back.

"Why?" she tilted her head, confused.

"Too crowded," he clarified, dropping the money for lunch on the table, and silently escorting Ingrid from Grace's.

"Matthew, where we go now?" she slipped her left hand around his elbow.

"Sorry." He stopped walking, still in the small alley between the Clinic and Grace's. "Just felt like everyone were starin' at me…"

"People only concern, Matthew," Ingrid responded softly, not expecting the gruff reply she received.

"Well, wish they'd mind their own damn business," he caught himself quickly, "Sorry, Ingrid." Matthew drew a deep breath, "It's just… been a very hectic few weeks. And… ain't really gonna get much easier."

"Matthew, is not Brian?" Ingrid changed the subject, gesturing to the young boy sprinting down the main street towards them.

Matthew frowned, stepping forward to block his brother's past. "Hey… where you goin'?"

Brian struggled to free himself from his brother's grasp, "Goin' home," the little boy stated unequivocally.

"Oh, says who? Last time I checked, school weren't over till three," Matthew pulled Brian back by the scruff on his jacket.

"Says me. Sick a what they're all sayin'. If Ma doesn't have to go to work, then don't see why I have ta go ta school," Brian caught his breath, Colleen slowing down and arriving behind him.

"Brian! Why didn't ya stop when I was callin' ya!" she demanded, barely even noticing Matthew or Ingrid.

"Goin' home, Colleen…" Brian turned, attempting to escape from Matthew's grasp.

"Whoa… hold it both a you… Colleen, what's this all about?" Matthew placed his free hand gently on his sister's shoulder.

"Kids at school, Matthew," Colleen grumbled, shrugging off his contact, and folding her arms tightly.

"What happen to upset you?" Ingrid spoke up.

Colleen looked suspiciously between Ingrid and her older brother, "Kids were teasin' us… same as usual."

"About Ma?" Matthew clarified with a disappointed sigh.

Colleen simply nodded.

Brian eagerly expanded on her nod, "Steven were sayin' that his folks reckon Ma," Matthew cut him off instantly.

"Brian, I don't wanna hear what they said." Matthew crouched down to his younger brother's level. "Now ya hear me, ya just have to ignore 'em. They'll stop after a bit, once they see you ain't bothered by it," Matthew patted Brian's shoulder for encouragement.

"But I don't want them sayin' bad stuff… Makes Ma sound really bad, when it weren't her fault. Sully told me. So why can't I just ask Sully to explain it to them? Then they won't keep sayin' bad stuff," Brian looked up at Colleen, hoping she would side with him.

"Because, Brian. There are some things that are just between people in a family, ya understand? Some things are private, and they gotta stay that way," Matthew knew he was making things harder for the young boy, but that in time, his classmates would forget about it and find something else to focus on.

"Guess… seems stupid though," the little boy grumbled. "All right if I go home?"

Matthew looked down the main street towards the schoolhouse and then back to his brother's pleading face. "I reckon that's just givin' in to 'em, little brother. Ya gotta show 'em that you don't care what they said, coz it ain't true. It's a game, see, they wanna think they've upset you, so you runnin' off, goin' home just makes 'em think they succeeded. But if you march back there, and ignore 'em, well, that's a much more grown-up thing to do." Matthew stood up and gently turned Brian around to face in the opposite direction.

"You sure?" He chewed nervously on his lower lip.

"Trust me. Off ya go," Matthew tapped his back, Brian dragging his feet for a few steps, then moving into a more determined pace.

"Hey, where you goin'?" Matthew frowned, as Colleen continued in her original direction, past him and Ingrid towards the livery.

"Where I was goin' to start with; home," she stated, in no mood for an interrogation.

"What, don't tell me they bothered you that much?" Matthew took Ingrid's hand, the pair following after Colleen.

"No; really ain't feelin' well," Colleen lowered her head, Matthew sensing when he needed to back off.

"You be all right on Flash?" Matthew asked.

"Gotta be, don't I?" Colleen shrugged, moving into a brisk pace, just wanting to get home.

"Seeya tonight, Colleen," Matthew replied, he and Ingrid walking back towards the main street, leaving Colleen to collect the horse from Robert E.'s

**X.O.X**

Michaela tightened the shawl around her shoulders, she and Dorothy standing out on the porch, gazing into the afternoon sun.

"Is there anything else that needs doin'?" Dorothy glanced over, feeling much calmer than she had at the start of the day.

"I don't think so, Dorothy," Michaela smiled briefly, thinking forwards to the evening ahead, "so is this what it's like – being a house wife?"

Dorothy chuckled, reflecting on the washing, cleaning and cooking they'd done that day, "I suppose…" she trailed off, not sure of Michaela's reaction. "Is that good or not?"

"I'm not sure. Before Colleen and I had always done most of the work together, but she had school and I had work, so it didn't leave a lot of time for extravagances." Michaela replied thoughtfully.

"Well, you've still got work. At least for a few months. Don't you miss it?" Dorothy continued, intrigued as to how far she'd be able to take the conversation.

"I can just imagine the gossip," Michaela looked over as Dorothy interjected sharply.

"It's never bothered you before," Dorothy continued quickly, "What I mean is, the only way things will get back to normal is if you take the first step." Dorothy paused, "Michaela, we had this same conversation months ago, didn't we?" she reached over to touch her friend's arm, "and it was never as dreadful as you feared, was it?"

Michaela tried to remember her first days back at work following her abduction. "It felt like a mountain I had no chance of climbing… but now it seems so insignificant. Dorothy… have, have you heard anything? What… what are people saying about me?" she glanced down at Dorothy's hand on her right arm.

Dorothy considered the question for a moment. "Michaela, it hasn't been that long. The people who knew before you arrived feel as I do – Loren, Horace, Myra, the Reverend… no-one blames you. Everyone just appreciates the unfairness. Any judgment is only coming from people who don't understand the facts… The same people who stuck their noses in months ago… But you've enough people on your side. What do Sully and the children say?"

Michaela shook her head at the mention of Sully, "I think it was enough of a victory to just get me back here… Sully hasn't been himself since yesterday… so much has happened this week – work seems like a luxury." Michaela paused, finishing her answer, "the children would like me to go back I think,"

"And you? Forget about other people… deep down, what do you want these next few months to be? You – hiding away out here… or back with the town – doing what you love?" Dorothy pursed her lips, knowing she'd said enough by the agonized expression on Michaela's face.

"I don't know," Michaela turned and walked slowly back inside.

Silently, Dorothy followed, closing the door quietly, watching as Michaela sat on the edge of the bed.

"It doesn't feel the same as it did. After what happened in Boston, some of the doctors I met… didn't exactly make me proud to be a physician. It's so different being on the other side… I've never been ill, I suppose. I've never had to be the patient." Michaela thought back over the last few years, "only since I've been here…"

"I don't understand, Michaela." Dorothy shook her head, genuinely confused.

Michaela sighed, "Neither do I… I don't know it I feel the same way about medicine. It's one thing to understand how the physical body works… I'm comfortable with that. But that's not even half of it… So much, of how we function… is controlled by our minds; by what we think, feel. Medicine hasn't caught up to that yet. The doctors I saw in Boston… not one of them even began to consider how I was feeling… All they could see was the physical. They couldn't appreciate how conflicted I felt - and even if they had, they couldn't of cared less. The situation meant nothing – I was simply a pregnant woman. An unmarried one at that. I tried to explain – they saw it as an excuse. William was the only one who even began to," Michaela trailed off, quickly remembering his selfish motives, "But he didn't care about me… He just wanted me to be the person he remembered… and I'll never be that person. It took me this long to realize that 'being normal again' is a myth. Pregnant or not, the last six months has changed me. I won't say it was for the better – but at least now I can stop fighting it." Michaela shrugged, realizing there were some moments of her time in Boston that she had little memory of.

"What will you do?" Dorothy began hesitantly, realizing she herself wasn't sure what she'd meant. "About the child," she clarified, the final word considerably detached.

"I don't know," Michaela stated oddly, never having allowed herself to imagine more than "hideous infant" up until that point. "I still don't know how I feel… it's only been a week or so that I've actually convinced myself there will even be one," she trailed off a slight frown appearing on her face, "I'll be glad when it's over… at the moment it feels like a scarlet letter."

"It'll get better," Dorothy pursed her lips confidently. "It's just such a shock… I had no idea; knew things weren't right, but then I hadn't expected things to just return to normal. When did you find out?" Dorothy phrased awkwardly.

Michaela broke the eye contact, pulling herself from the side of the bed, trying to think of a task to distract her away from Dorothy's question.

She sighed, reluctant to think back over the last few months, "I feared the truth months ago… then convinced myself I was mistaken. It was just before the play the children did; the night before I confirmed Myra's pregnancy," Michaela sighed, crossing the room to start folding some of the laundry.

"I remember…" Dorothy shook her head, "And then you left so suddenly… we were so worried you weren't going to return,"

"I shouldn't have gone; but then, I suppose I would have always wondered. It's only been two years, but I'd forgotten just how clinical doctors are," Michaela trailed off, trying to answer another question that had been looming for the past few days, "Dorothy… out here, propriety is different. Tell me, honestly, do you think I put myself at risk? Did I… ignore the dangers?"

Dorothy blinked quickly, contemplating her friend's in-depth question, "Oh Michaela… you shouldn't blame yourself," she shook her head confidently.

"No, Dorothy. Tell me what you think. Did I get too involved? When the dog soldiers were raiding… Matthew didn't want me to leave town, but I knew best. Even after they'd kidnapped me, I still fought back, tried to escape. I always thought I could control every situation I found myself in; that logic and reason would be enough. At the time, I was more angry than scared... I can't help but go back over that week… wonder how I could have reacted differently. I loathed so much that he frightened me; and it nearly cost me my life." Michaela walked slowly back to Dorothy's side, not sure what solace she expected.

Dorothy tried to keep up with Michaela's words. "But it didn't. You got through it, that's all that matters," Dorothy tried to console her friend, however knew she was in way over her head.

"But Matthew and Sully were right; I knew the risks and I ignored them. I never thought they'd kidnap me… and I was wrong. I never believed he'd hurt me… and I was wrong. I feared it, night after night; gazing up into the stars, hearing the fires crackling, and voices I couldn't understand. Every time he touched me, I fought back. And each time… I saw his anger, his _hatred_. In that instant I knew he could kill me. I'd look down, and see the knife against my throat… and he would have killed me out of _mere reflex_, Dorothy. So then I'd freeze and fear what was going to happen next. How can someone hate that much?" Michaela drew a long breath, blinking away the vivid memories.

Dorothy paused, unsure if Michaela actually expected an answer. She waited, allowing the silence to linger, before eventually speaking, "The times Marcus beat me the worst… I saw hatred in his eyes. Each time he'd strike me, it was as if he'd forgotten I was human. Either he didn't realize that he was inflicting such pain on me… or he did and he didn't care."

Michaela looked up slowly, meeting eyes with Dorothy for the first time in minutes, "The feeling that you're not even there,"

Dorothy simply nodded.

"Every time I have to treat a patient, and I see them wince, I know I'm causing them pain. And it takes all the resolve I have not to stop; to remind myself that it's for the greater good. I don't understand how someone can willingly hurt someone. What makes a person able to do that, Dorothy?" Michaela tilted her head, bewilderment mixed with repulsion.

"I don't know, Michaela," Dorothy answered very quietly, still absorbed by the memories of her husband's abuse.

**X.O.X**

"I did not know how to tell you," Cloud Dancing spoke softly, "It was not my place,"

Sully looked up slowly from the spitting fire, "You knew?" his eyes narrowed.

The older man nodded; although it was a nod that conveyed a great deal.

"I could have helped her… saved so much damage… Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't interfere… I… I can not use my power to change things… not directly. I can provide guidance, as I tried to do… but I can not tell people directly…" Cloud Dancing glanced over at the wolf by Sully's side. "How is Dr. Mike?"

"How do you think?" Sully retorted, unable to see past the risks that had been needlessly taken in Boston.

"This was meant to be…" he muttered wistfully.

"Don't give me that… I don't believe in a fate this cruel… Ain't nothin' worth the pain Michaela's goin' through… she coulda died in Boston… nearly did from all accounts. Ain't she been through enough?"

"I am sorry." Cloud Dancing shook his head in regret, "I did not mean to minimize such pain… only to emphasize that it will not be in vain."

"I know… but from where we're all sitting, was the worst twist of fate… Hard enough for her to rebuild her life after this happened… and now it's all but impossible. She'll never be able to move on…"

"Things will not be the same, that is true – but all of life is change. To allow us to grow; to face new challenges." Cloud Dancing muttered, "When Snow Bird told me a week ago – it was a shock – after losing our son, I did not know if I was ready,"

"At least you both went into it willingly." Sully spoke quietly, finding it difficult to accept his brother's deception.

"I am sorry, Sully. I am sorry for the pain it has caused." Cloud Dancing acknowledged.

"Hasn't even started yet – It was all I could do to convince Michaela that having this child was the right thing. Well, any rate, I knew killing it was the wrong thing – and that only left one alternative. It's up to her where she goes from here… I'd never expect her to keep it… not in a town like this… not with her family."

"At least now there is time. Under the circumstances, I could find the child a family among us… but that would probably not be what Dr. Mike wants," Cloud Dancing sighed, slowly reaching forward to stroke Wolf's head.

"It's too soon… I don't think Michaela has had time to connect… to realize it's her child as much as it's not… But any decision she makes I'll support," Sully affirmed.

"I think it will work out well," Cloud Dancing muttered under his breath.

Sully narrowed his eyes, initially frustrated by the older man's vague remarks, however pausing to remember that Cloud Dancing was under no obligation to share any of his wisdom. "I think the children will help."

Both men sat in silence for several minutes, Cloud Dancing eventually speaking, "And you have undergone much change, too?" His expression was mixed.

Sully tilted his head lightly, quickly nodding in confirmation, "Bit impulsive," he considered, "but I had to get her home… didn't know who we'd be runnin' into – and it was a hurdle I couldn't justify." Sully frowned, knowing there was another reason, perhaps only touched on by Jake. "Not anymore,"

"You did what you had to," Cloud Dancing replied softly. "… in a white man's world."

"Ain't about that… well, maybe it is. I don't care who's world it is at the moment. We're all trying to help Michaela through the darkness she's in. And I can't say I blame her. Months ago – that moment I found out she'd been hurt… it was more crushing than falling from that cliff… I didn't know how we were all going to make it through. But, in all honesty, people were more supportive than I'd given 'em credit for… and there was hope. All of which lasted two or three months… Now I'm just left with the regret that I didn't see it – but even if I'd suspected it, Michaela wouldn't a talked 'bout it… She probably needed to go through this, to come to the decision for herself. She deserved that at least; to have a choice." Sully looked up, able to feel the separation between their two cultures. "Cloud Dancing, it is hard – living in the two worlds; especially now. You know the depths of my commitment to you and the Cheyenne people, but Michaela has to come first." Sully dropped his eyes, not knowing how to best phrase his thoughts, "She's terrified… Of what this child represents… what it will be,"

"I am hopeful that it will be her," Cloud Dancing clarified his words slightly, "of the mixed children I've seen, the mother's features are more prominent," Cloud Dancing watched as Sully thought about his words.

"Yeah, but the mother is usually Indian. And ain't mixed blooded children too well accepted in either of our cultures"

"That is true…" Cloud Dancing sighed, "Snowbird asks about Dr. Mike. She misses her,"

"I know. Gonna take awhile though." Sully looked down, awkwardly, "Cloud Dancing, I ain't told her about Snowbird. As it is she can barely cope; she feels cheated enough,"

"I understand," Cloud Dancing nodded. "Sully, if we can help in any way… to make this right," the older man muttered softly.

"I know. Think it'll just take some time. Michaela hadn't even dealt with the attack, and then she was faced with this child. She needs to process one before the other, hopefully within the next couple of months, which is a lot to ask. But I will let you know if there is any way you can help," he reached forward to slowly grasp Cloud Dancing's forearm.

"And what about you? You have talked of Dr. Mike's feelings, but not of your own," Cloud Dancing observed, as he returned the gesture of friendship.

Idly tossing another branch into the fire, Sully considered his answer, "Felt a lot a anger… before. I exposed Michaela to all this… and I couldn't protect her. Can't expect the whites to understand the difference between dog soldiers and Cheyenne. So, I feel angry that what he has done has cast such a dark light on you all. We were just buildin' the town's trust, and now… it's worse than before. And it's the little things been tough – having to explain to Brian that the baby will be part Indian. Expecting a ten year-old to understand that the person who nearly killed his mother, is also the father of that baby. And that it doesn't make all Indians bad. Michaela and Colleen are struggling with it, no wonder Brian is."

Cloud Dancing remained silent, before eventually speaking, "Sully, what if I spoke with the children? I understand if Dr. Mike is not yet ready, but… perhaps it would calm their fears?"

Sully looked up from the fire, "You think it will help?"

"It is the only thing that will. Creating further divide between our two cultures is going to make it more difficult for everyone,"

**X.O.X**

"Well now you just take things easy," Dorothy smiled, tentatively reaching forwards to brush Michaela's arm.

Weakly, she simply nodded in response.

Dorothy had just mounted her horse, when both heard the trotting of a single horse nearby.

"Colleen?" Michaela recognized the blonde-headed girl immediately, Dorothy waiting until she'd arrived outside the homestead.

"Hi Miss Dorothy," Colleen quietly murmured, dismounting the horse and leading Flash into the barn.

"Colleen," Dorothy smiled, turning and nodding to Michaela a final time, "Take care," she pushed the horse into a trot, moving quickly down the path and back towards town.

Michaela walked over to the barn, as Colleen secured Flash in her stall.

"You all right Colleen?" she realized it was well before school was due to finish.

"Just wishing I'd been born a boy, that's all," Colleen groused, struggling with Flash's saddle.

A silent smile of recognition came to Michaela's lips, as she went over to help.

"Here," Michaela secured her hands against Flash's side, creating more slack in the saddle belts.

"Got it," Colleen sighed, eventually managing to unbuckle the saddle and remove it.

"Any reason you're home so early?" Michaela ventured nervously.

"Ain't feelin' well," Colleen shrugged, awkwardly lifting the saddle and placing it over the stall door.

"Is that all?" Michaela chewed on her lower lip.

"Yeah," Colleen answered quickly, turning around to unbridle the horse, "kinda…" she trailed off.

Michaela raised her eyebrows, stroking Flash's nose.

"I really do have a stomach ache…" Colleen justified, hanging up the bridle.

Michaela nodded slowly, walking beside Colleen back towards the homestead. "I'm sorry to hear that, sweetheart. Is there anything I can do?"

Colleen shook her head, "It's just the regular monthly stomach ache, Dr. Mike," she informed her curtly.

"Well, why don't you go and lie down and I'll bring you a warm compress?" she offered, touching the girl's shoulder softly.

"Thanks," Colleen answered warmly, heading back inside.


	91. Chapter 91

**Chapter 91**

Michaela finished folding the clean washing, looking up at the clock. "Any better?" she walked across the room to check on Colleen.

The young girl replied wearily, "yeah…" she paused, "is this gonna happen every month for the rest of my life?"

Michaela considered the question for a moment, taking a seat on the edge of Brian's bed, "I don't think so, Colleen. It varies, but for most women premenstrual discomfort is worse for the first year or so… once your body gets used to it, it should dissipate,"

Colleen nodded, "How come women have to put up with all this stuff, and men don't have anything, 'cept shavin'?" she rolled her eyes, remembering Matthew's complaints at the odd nick here and there.

Michaela shrugged, "That's just life."

The young girl continued quickly, "And I supposed it's worth it…" she smiled for a moment, before realizing what she'd eluded to. "Sorry," she looked away awkwardly.

Michaela shook her head immediately, "Don't be… It will be worth it for you,"

Colleen returned her gaze to the ceiling, trying to make sense of the events of the past week.

"So what's going to happen?" she phrased slowly, eventually turning her head. "I didn't realize how complicated it all is… Aunt Rebecca was supportive, but ain't everyone. Before you left, I never understood how difficult this was… I get it now," Colleen sighed, "And I don't know how to fix it,"

Michaela smiled softly at Colleen's words, frowning as she nestled down opposite in Brian's bed, considering her response.

"You don't have to fix it, Colleen. It's not something any of us can fix. All I can do now, is hope that it will be less difficult in time," Michaela trailed off, feeling her eyes drop closed.

"But what about people who don't understand?" Colleen stopped quickly, chewing on her lip, not wanting to give away her ulterior motive for coming home early.

Michaela slowly opened her eyes in response to the questions, "I've spent my entire life fighting people who didn't understand me… I'd be lying if I said it didn't scare me a little… but, as Sully said, I just have to trust that enough people will understand,"

"Dr, Mike… I… I know it ain't my place to say and all… but, well… would it help with people understandin'… if Sully was around?" Colleen frowned to herself, appreciating the cryptic nature of her question.

Choosing to keep her eyes closed, Michaela pondered the question, "I shouldn't think it will make a difference,"

"No… I mean… it ain't none a my business…." Colleen shook her head with a sigh.

Eyes opening slowly, Michaela saw the confusion on her daughter's face, "It's all right, Colleen,"

Trying to find the right words, the young girl continued with her question, "Well, I guess I was tryin' to work out… what would make things easier. And… well… keep thinkin' back to before this all happened… and… wonderin' what would be different now if it hadn't… and…"

"Colleen," Michaela prodded, feeling sleep beckoning from behind her eyelids.

"Would you and Sully been married by now?" she answered quickly.

Michaela opened her eyes, focusing on the edge of the shawl around her right arm. "I honestly don't know…"

"But you woulda been more than just friends like you are now," Colleen raised an eyebrow, although not daring to turn her head.

"I suppose," Michaela acknowledged, closing her eyes again. "I'm not sure, Colleen," she considered Sully's strange behavior over the past day.

"Well, I understand why you'd be scared a marryin' him… but you said yourself you didn't want what happened changin' nothin'… but ain't it?" Colleen twisted her interlocked hands together against her stomach, knowing she was prying, but also genuinely confused.

Michaela heard only two words of Colleen's statement, overpowering emotion bringing with it a spontaneous answer, "I'm not scared of marrying Sully,"

Colleen kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling above her, too nervous by this point to so much as glance to her right. "You ain't?"

Michaela thought over the question a second time, remembering Sully's casual proposal on the stairwell less than a week earlier. "Have you been talking to Sully about this?" she asked suspiciously, trying to sort out his motivation and subsequent reserved behavior.

"Well… no, but… why else would you turn him down?" she guiltily gave up the secret.

Michaela blinked several times, "Are you sure Sully hasn't spoken to you?"

"Swear… only to Matthew…" she admitted hesitantly.

"I see," Michaela frowned.

"Dr. Mike… ain't like that. Matthew'd been pressuring Sully to ask you… and… he said it weren't the right time… but then with everything that happened in Boston, Sully gave in… and… well… Are you angry?" she concluded quietly.

"Sully asked me to marry him because Matthew told him to?" Michaela sat up quickly, focusing her attention fully on Colleen.

"Well… yeah… but only coz Matthew thought it'd help… that it'd be what you wanted," Colleen squinted her eyes closed when she heard Michaela get to her feet.

"Then I was right. He did just ask me out of pity," Michaela strode briskly over to the front door, Colleen letting out a low wail of regret as she heard the door close loudly.

"Why didn't I keep my big mouth shut?" she cursed herself, throwing her head back forcefully against the pillow.

**X.O.X**

She arrived into the barn, Colleen's words still echoing in her ears. The fact that her children had obviously been discussing her relationship with Sully at length, bothered her less than Sully's behavior in Boston.

_I knew it was out of character for him. But Sully wouldn't do something like that, just because Matthew told him to._

She arrived by Flash's stall, the horse moving her head over the gate in response to the company.

"Hello girl…" she stroked Flash's nose softly, "You're going to be Colleen's horse for a while now, Flash," Michaela brought her right hand under the horse's mouth, scratching Flash's neck.

_Colleen. Is that what she thought? That I'd be afraid to marry Sully? Is that what Sully thinks?_

Michaela thought back over Sully's proposal the week before.

_How could he have expected me to take that seriously?_

She sighed, watching Flash's nostrils flare as she breathed. "Would I have married William if he'd proposed? But he didn't…" she looked around the small barn, seeing the brush by Flash's bridle.

_What if I made a mistake… what if I regret not staying when I had the chance. But I couldn't have stayed._

She arrived back into Flash's stall, the horse sniffing her hand as she commenced brushing Flash's mane. "I hope you're not scaring Colleen too much…" Michaela reflected on the young girl's fear of horses.

_Was I meant to be with William? Was that my second chance? I couldn't have married either of them… that's not what I want anymore…_

She continued brushing Flash, moving over her stunning brown coat in long, slow movements. _Anymore? _She thought back over Rebecca's words from the previous week. _She was right; it was never a priority for me. _

Michaela continued brushing the horse, feeling the warmth of Flash's coat under her fingers.

_If this hadn't of happened… what would be different? Well that's a foolish question… _Michaela sighed, shaking her head dismissively.

_Would Sully and I be engaged? Married? _She realized she had no way of answering those questions. _It doesn't matter, Michaela. It has happened, you can't turn back the clock._

Moving around to Flash's head, she watched the horse regard her.

"You're not afraid of anything, are you Flash?" she brought her hand to the horse's nose, running her fingers along the length of Flash's nasal bone. She thought back over her behavior during the past month. "I'm sorry, girl…"

Flash's big brown eyes flickered between her own.

Michaela smiled, leaning forward to kiss Flash's nose. "You remember?" she smiled, thinking back to the afternoon she'd pushed Flash too hard.

Moving around to the other side, Michaela continued brushing, her mind quickly launching into thought.

_I should have told Sully straight away… he would have understood. But I felt so guilty… I didn't want anyone to know…_

"So this is what life is going to be?" she saw Flash's left ear twitch in response to her voice.

_Out here… with the children. This isn't the way it's supposed to be… All I feel towards this child is resentment. Fear._

"There," Michaela looked back to Flash, finishing her brushing as welcome distraction from her thoughts.

Scratching the horse's nose a final time, she placed the brush back and moved slowly towards the barn door.

Her eyes roaming from the stalls, to the cow in the corner, Michaela remembered the day she'd walked in and found Brett McCall.

_Mike must be almost two by now…_

She blinked, allowing herself to remember the days she'd cared for the Indian baby.

_What if I'd kept him? I never expected the world to be so bigoted – but it didn't bother me then. It was something I wanted to fight; to change._

_Will I have to go through all that again with this baby? Has this town learned at all, or is this just going to be more difficult?_

**X.O.X**

Matthew smiled as Brian ran over to him, the school day having just ended.

"Hi Matthew!" Brian eagerly took Taffy from Robert E. and climbed onto his horse.

"Hey Brian, how'd school go?" Matthew reached over to ruffle Brian's hair, both moving off from the livery.

"Wait up, Matthew!" Grace called, rushing over quickly from the café, a basket held tightly in her left hand.

Matthew stopped, turning, "Miss Grace?"

"Put supper together for you all," she smiled awkwardly, handing him the basket.

"Thanks, Miss Grace, real kind a ya," Matthew secured the basket to the pommel of his saddle, nodding in appreciation.

"No trouble, tell Dr. Mike if there's anything she needs, just let me know," Grace brushed Matthew's arm softly.

"Will do," Matthew smiled, waiting for Grace to take a step backwards from the horse before moving Scout into a walk.

"Thanks! Bye Robert E.!" Brian waved, quickly trotting away on Taffy, eager to beat his brother home.

Matthew followed after Brian, waiting until they were almost out of town before calling to him.

"You ain't gonna catch me, Matthew!" Brian teased, thinking it a trick.

"Nah, little brother, wanna talk to ya…" Matthew called again, Brian eventually slowing.

"What ya want?" Brian eyed his brother suspiciously, keeping Taffy in a spirited walk.

"How'd school go?" Matthew asked seriously.

Brian shrugged, "was all right…" he trailed off, thinking back over the day. "Nobody said nothin' else after Colleen left,"

"That's good… Now don't ya feel better knowin' ya stuck it out? 'Stead a just runnin' home?" Matthew turned his head, his voice confident.

"Guess so… but I just want 'em to stop… coz it ain't true," Brian squinted against the bright sunlight, looking down at the reins held in his hands.

"They'll stop soon, Brian. Somethin' else'll come up and they'll stop," Matthew assured. Seeing the awkward look on his brother's face, Matthew pulled back on Scout's reins. "What's up?"

Brian brought Taffy to a halt, turning to his older brother, "Matthew… can I ask Ma to come to the sports day on Sunday? Coz there's gonna be all these events… and be real excitin'." Brian raised his eyebrows hopefully.

"I don't know, Brian… think it's too soon. But I'll come watch ya," Matthew squeezed his little brother's arm supportively.

Brian shrugged, "Wish Ma wasn't so scared… wish she was like she used to be," the little boy dropped his head, exhaling softly.

"I know, Brian. Just gonna take time, that's all…" Matthew tried to encourage his brother, but was himself doubtful of his words.

"Wish Ma were around… she'd make sure no one was mean to Dr. Mike, wouldn't she?" Brian looked back up hopefully.

"Yeah, she would," Matthew spoke softly, realizing things would probably be very, very different if their mother was still alive, "But then Dr. Mike wouldn't… be your Ma, Brian," Matthew changed the direction of his sentence very quickly, knowing Brian didn't need additional guilt that he was too young to understand.

"I know." Brian scratched at the edge of his saddle, remembering the time he'd spent in Boston. "Ma said it was my fault… is that what she meant? That she didn't want to be my Ma?"

Matthew frowned, seeing Brian's cheeks redden, "What?"

"Ma said it was because of me… that she didn't want me to get hurt… Did she mean she doesn't wanna be our Ma anymore?" Brian leaned forward to grab a handful of Taffy's mane.

Slowly, Matthew dismounted Scout, moving closer to his brother. "When was this, Brian?"

Brian fidgeted with Taffy's hair for several moments, trying to remember the traumatic day in more detail. "The first day we got to Boston. When Ma saw the mean doctor. Back at the hotel, she was real sick, Matthew. She yelled at me… and made me break the glass. I said I was sorry… but she said it was all my fault. That… if Ma hadn't died, she never woulda got us and everything wouldn't be messed up," Brian's chin trembled, remembering his answer in vivid detail, "I said I hated her…" the tears fell from his cheeks, "that's when she took the medicine and wouldn't wake up," Brian leaned to his right, his weight falling against Matthew's shoulder as he cried.

"Ssh… be all right Brian… Dr. Mike didn't mean it," he consoled, feeling helplessness wash over him at the sound of his little brother's cries.

"Yes she did… that's why she don't wanna do anything with us… Won't come to the sports day… she don't wanna be my Ma anymore," Brian felt Matthew lift him down from the horse.

"Now you listen to me, Brian… that just ain't true. Dr. Mike loves all a us very much, just like we love her. Now you know she's findin' it real hard at the moment… but it don't mean she don't still love you," Matthew cradled Brian's head against his shoulder, managing to hold both horses' reins.

"That's what Sully said…" Brian whispered.

"Well, he was right," Matthew condoned, "you just gotta remember that,"

"But if she don't love the baby, maybe that means she don't love us neither?" Brian protested.

"Ain't true, Brian… Sully told ya about that, didn't he?" Matthew continued, slowly dropping Brian down to his feet.

"Guess so… coz the baby came from somethin' bad…" the little boy reminded himself quietly.

"Yeah," Matthew sighed, gripping Brian's shoulder tightly.

"Matthew?" Brian looked up. "Wish Ma could help Dr. Mike," he repeated, his face brightening at the memory of his mother.

"Me too, Brian. Ma woulda been just the person Dr. Mike needs right now," Matthew agreed, picking Brian up again for a warm hug, before lifting him back onto Taffy.

**X.O.X**

Colleen opened her eyes, not realizing she'd fallen asleep until she felt the now-cool compress against her stomach. Frowning, she got to her feet, moving to the fireplace to check the time.

_Four ten._

She turned around, knowing she'd have to start dinner soon. It was then that she noticed she'd not been the only one asleep. Chewing absent-mindedly on a fingernail, Colleen watched Michaela doze, curled on her left side, her long hair trailing over her right shoulder.

About to concern herself with supper preparations, Colleen turned back towards the shelves and cupboards, looking up when she heard the sound of horses in the distance.

Moving quickly outside, Colleen waited until she saw Matthew and Brian appear, placing a finger firmly to her lips.

"Hey Colleen," Brian slid down off Taffy.

"Hush Brian, Dr. Mike's sleepin'," the young girl whispered sharply.

Brian merely sighed, and with his head dropped, led the horse over towards the barn.

"Here," Matthew muttered, handing Colleen the basket from Grace. "Grace sent it,"

Colleen's face melted into relief, as she took the basket back inside, supper having prepared itself!

Matthew watched as Brian silently unsaddled Taffy, and removed her bridle. Remembering their earlier conversation and aware of all Brian had endured the last few weeks, Matthew tried to think of what would put Brian in a better mood.

"Hey, how about a game a checkers before supper?" Matthew offered, expected Brian to eagerly take him up on the offer.

The little boy simply stared back up at him, shrugged lightly and scuffed his way back inside.

Colleen looked up, hearing the back door open. About to chastise one of her brothers, she watched as Brian crept around from their beds, a finger reverently to his lips.

Colleen shook her head with a bemused smile, watching as Brian slowly and carefully made his way around to the empty side of the bed, his eyes never leaving his mother's face, ensuring he didn't disturb her as he crawled across to her side.

Satisfied that he'd been as quiet as he could, Brian nestled his head on the empty pillow, hands clasped under him, eyes remaining locked to Michaela's face as she slept.

His sister watched captivated, her head tilted in curiosity, before she quietly went back to preparing supper.

**X.O.X**

"I _told_ Penny Miss Grace's cookin' was the best… wish she could come out here," Brian savored the last of his bread soaked in gravy, reluctantly letting Colleen take his plate.

"I dunno, little brother… probably be a bit for her to adjust to…" Matthew counted.

Michaela got to her feet, helping Colleen take the plates and cutlery over to the basin.

"But it'd be fun, can she Ma? Can Penny and Aunt Rebecca come visit?" Brian looked over at her hopefully.

"We'll see," Michaela considered, spooning the small amount of leftovers into a bowl for Pup.

"Game a checkers, Brian?" Matthew offered, Brian agreeing quickly and going off to find the board and pieces.

"I'll go get the water," Colleen nodded, turning around towards the back door.

"You feeling any better?" Michaela looked over compassionately.

"Yeah… should be fine now, ya know," she smiled turning and hurrying outside, missing her mother's reaction.

"I remember," Michaela spoke quietly, watching as Brian and Matthew commenced their game.

**X.O.X**

Colleen looked up from filling the bucket with water at the sound of a branch snapping in the distance. She saw Wolf come running down the path. Quietly placing the bucket back down, Colleen walked quickly around to the front of the homestead, looking for Sully.

"Sully?" she hissed quietly, looking around, eventually seeing him appear in the distance.

A smile coming to his face immediately, when he saw her indicating for him to be quiet, and follow her into the barn.

"What's up?" he kept his voice low as she closed the door.

"Needed to talk to ya in private… wanted to warn ya," Colleen clasped her hands together nervously.

"Warn me? She that mad at me for yesterday?" Sully folded his arms, leaning up against Bear's stall.

"Uh-uh, it ain't yesterday Sully." Colleen began hesitantly, pacing around the barn. "I… I opened my big mouth… we were just talkin'… and I was tryin' to be honest… but… think I've just made it worse,"

"Made what worse?" Sully shook his head.

"Was talkin' to Dr. Mike this afternoon. Just talkin'… about stuff... and was just curious if the two a you woulda been married by now… I… I was tryin' to be considerate… said I'd understand if she didn't wanna marry ya, if she was afraid to… but then it all just got out a hand… and she found out,"

"Found out what?" Sully frowned, letting his eyes drop closed for a moment.

"Found out that you only proposed to her coz Matthew told you to," Colleen blurted out; the damage was already done. "Matthew told me what happened in Boston,"

Sully sighed, wishing for a day where things didn't get any more complicated than they already were.

"What, and Matthew told you that I spoke to Dr. Mike?" Sully kept his voice controlled and soft.

"Yeah… that you asked her to marry ya… and she said no," Colleen nodded, relieved to not be in trouble.

"I see," Sully cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry Sully… I know this ain't any of my business…" Colleen apologized sincerely.

"Wouldn't say that… course it'll impact on all a ya… so, it ain't a secret. Just makes it difficult everyone thinkin' different things." Sully reasoned, trying to see where Colleen was going with the conversation.

"You ain't wrong about that… so I guess I wanted to warn ya… Think Dr. Mike's kinda mad that you only asked her coz Matthew said to,"

"Whoa… whoa…" Sully raised his hands in defense, "First off, that ain't the case… I don't do something just coz someone tells me to,"

"Well, Dr. Mike thinks ya did…" Colleen sighed, biting her lower lip, "Sully… I know it ain't about doing what's right… but, guess I can't help but think it would make everything a lot easier if the two a ya,"

"I know… Matthew feels the same." Sully answered quickly, "But it's a big step,"

"Yeah… although, Dr. Mike said she ain't scared of marryin' ya. Although… dunno if I believe her. I'd be scared of…" Colleen shrugged, suddenly realizing she was talking with another man and not Dorothy or Becky. "I mean… ah, well, I'd be nervous enough about gettin' married and I ain't been through what Ma has," she turned away, pushing her hands deep into the pockets of her apron.

Sully remained thoughtfully quiet, watching Colleen begin pacing around the barn again. He lowered his gaze, thinking about Colleen's words.

_Does Michaela think I'd expect that of her? If was difficult enough before all this... maybe that's why she said 'no'._

"Marriage is more than that, Colleen," Sully reassured, seeing the young girl glance over awkwardly,

"I know… but, that's a part of it. And from the talks I had with Dr. Mike last year… she was raised to believe it's an important part." Colleen saw the sincerity on Sully's face; it didn't bother him to have such conversations.

"Know she was," Sully smiled, remembering the difficulties they'd had establishing physical boundaries when they'd been courting. "But ain't the same now. I ain't got no expectations of Michaela. I… just love her," Sully glanced down at the sacred necklace around his neck, never having predicted their cultures to have merged in such a cruel manner.

"Sully… know Brian wants you as a Pa awful bad… but so do I. You're a good Pa, better than mine ever was," she sighed, looking over sadly.

"We're workin' on it, Colleen," Sully smiled, extending his right arm out towards her.

Colleen smiled, immediately throwing herself into his embrace.

**X.O.X**

The full moon softly illuminated the homestead through the single window. It was still, everyone in their respective beds, sound asleep.

Pup, curled up on Brian's legs, scratched his ear, before placing his head back down and letting his eyes close.

It was late, after two in the morning, when the only sound to be heard was that of a horse approaching at speed.

Pup lifted his head, turning in the direction of the sound.

The horse drew closer, before stopping quickly, it's rider dropping down to the ground, his steps shuffled and fast.

Letting out a small whine, Pup kept still, hearing the footsteps on the porch.

Silence.

Pup dropped his head back to Brian's legs.

Moments later he let out a low growl, turning around as the door behind him opened.

Nobody stirred.

Pup watched as the stranger appeared in the doorway, His low growl stopped when he sensed familiarity.

Quietly, the figure moved into the homestead, the door ajar behind him.

His footsteps were uneven and stilted as he oriented himself to the new surroundings, searching only for one face.

Colleen mumbled under her breath, feeling something brush her arm lightly. She rolled over, keeping her eyes closed, hopping her little brother would give up and go back to sleep.

Pup continued to watch as the figure moved across the homestead.

Michaela remained peacefully asleep, oblivious to the presence that was now looming closer and closer towards her.

"Dr. Mike?" the man's voice broke the silence of the homestead, Pup pricking his ears up, and keeping his eyes focused on the hunched figure across the room.

Michaela wasn't sure what had woken her. Reluctantly opening her eyes, she felt the lightening bolt of adrenalin hit, as the dark image hovered beside her.

It wasn't Brian, it was too big.

"I have to know…" the voice spoke in an hypnotic, gravelly tone.

Although not sure if she'd felt his grasp before she'd heard his voice, Michaela managed to emit a moan of protest, feeling his hands on her shoulders.

_I'm dreaming… this isn't… real._

She tried to sit up and pull away from the intruder's strong hands.

"Gotta check," he muttered to himself, his voice so low as to be unrecognizable.

Trying to find his arms in the dark, Michaela felt her hands tangle in the bedclothes, not vocalizing further protest until she felt his hand on her neck.

"Please," she felt her breathing rise in her chest, still suspecting she was dreaming.

"Needa be sure," there was the voice again.

"Who… who are you?" Michaela eventually freed her arms, feeling her hands lock around the stranger's shirt cuffs.

She couldn't see his face, just an outline. And she could feel his cold hands against her skin. He kept one hand on her left shoulder, the other moved softly from her neck, around her throat.

Michaela could feel the roughness of his fingers. She could smell the remnants of alcohol. The adrenalin merged instantly into raw fear.

Managing to pry the stranger's hand from her skin, Michaela pulled herself with as much force as she possessed away from his grasp.

"It's all right," his voice softened, "Are you hurt?" his hand remained on her shoulder.

_I'm dreaming… I'm dreaming… please just let this be a dream… _Michaela begged, forcing her eyes closed, willing the nightmare to end.

She kept her eyes closed until she felt his hands return once again to her neck.

The sensation of his hands were enough to convince her this was no memory. Opening her eyes, squinting against the moonlight, Michaela pushed violently against the man's arms, managing to move over towards the left side of the bed, before she felt his weight beside her, his arms either side of her body.

"Dr. Mike, it's all right," the voice replied calmly.

Unnerved by the sound of her name, Michaela was beyond rational contemplation, pulling, pushing, squirming away from his touch.

Colleen opened her eyes to the sound of her mother's strangled cry. Moving her head, the young girl blinked, her eyes suddenly focusing on the dark figure on the edge of Michaela's bed.

"Dr. Mike!" she screamed, pulling herself from her cot, hearing and seeing the scuffle taking place across the room.

The young girl felt the cool metal of the shotgun in her hands, before she'd realized she'd even reached for it. "Leave her alone!" she screamed, pulling back the trigger and aiming the gun towards the dark figure.

Michaela recognized the young girl's voice from across the room, still pulling herself from the stranger's grasp. Feeling the contact eventually sever, she moved to her left, before she heard the deafening bang of the shotgun, and felt herself falling to the floor.

Colleen felt her body shake as she discharged the weapon, aiming it as low as she could, hoping a shot to the floor would at least alert Matthew and bring the situation to an end.

Blinking at the bright spark of the gunpowder, Colleen held her breath, hearing someone drop to the floor.

_What have I done?_

Colleen felt her mouth dry, her fingers locking tighter around the weapon.

She couldn't move.


	92. Chapter 92

**Chapter 92**

Michaela felt the burning pain radiate up her left wrist, opening her eyes to realize she'd fallen from the left side of the bed. Bringing her hand protectively towards her, she waited for the pain to subside, gradually recalling the events that had transpired up until that point.

"Colleen!" Brian squealed, having woken up at the sound of the gunshot, and scrambling to his sister's side.

Feeling the cold object in her hands, Colleen slowly looked down.

"Was that a gun?" Matthew yelled, noticing Colleen and Brian huddled by the fireplace.

Colleen swallowed, seeing her brother's face clearly with the lantern he'd brought from the barn. "I shot…" she voiced in a hoarse tone, then realized she still didn't know who the intruder was.

"Dr. Mike?" Matthew spun around, following Colleen's line of vision.

Matthew saw the slumped figure on Michaela's bed, "what the…" he ran over, more concerned at that moment about his mother. "Dr. Mike?" he called as he scanned around the homestead.

Michaela kept her eyes focused on her injured hand, only then realizing she must have fallen off the bed as the shot was fired. Michaela blinked several times when she saw the lantern light the floorboards beside her, forcing herself to take a deep breath. Unsure if it was the feeling of the stranger's hands on her shoulders and neck, or if she'd been winded by the fall, Michaela was still able to feel the tension in her upper body.

"Ma…" Matthew eventually found her by the side of the bed. "Here," he managed to help her to her feet. "What happened?"

Michaela looked from the slumped figure on her bed, to the children and finally back to Matthew, "I don't know…"

"Well who the hell…" Matthew moved the lantern between him and the unknown individual, recognizing the man immediately.

"Jake?" Matthew blinked in disbelief.

Clutching tighter to her brother, Colleen buried her face in Brian's shoulder as hot tears began streaming down her cheeks.

"It's all right, Colleen. Only Mr. Slicker," Brian shrugged, looking over to Matthew for help.

"Why'd you shoot him?" Matthew tried to piece everything together, looking from the shotgun to Colleen and Michaela, and finally back down to Jake's still form.

Colleen looked to Michaela, the young girl's eyes large and terrified. "I… I woke up, heard Ma screaming, just saw this figure… didn't know who it was. 'Foren I knew what I was doin', I'd grabbed the gun," Colleen's voice remained high-pitched and broken.

"Is Ma all right?" Brian chewed on his lower lip, opting to remain huddled by the fireplace.

"She's fine, Brian," Matthew reassured his brother, noticing the vacant expression on his mother's face, "Dr. Mike, ya all right?" Matthew frowned.

Michaela blinked, hearing the familiar voice. She drew a hesitant breath, keeping her eyes locked on the corner of the patchwork quilt.

"What happened, Ma?" Matthew struggled to make eye contact, uncertainty building in his stomach.

He saw Michaela jump at the man's groan of pain only several feet away.

"Aw, man. He's bleedin'," Matthew moved around to the other side of the bed, trying to inspect Jake for injury.

Only then did Michaela seem to hear the words Matthew had spoken, tentatively looking over towards Jake.

"Ma, it's his foot," Matthew indicated to Jake's right foot, carefully removing his shoe.

Michaela turned her head, seeing the blood on Jake's shoe and Matthew's hands. She watched silently for several moments, alternating her gaze between Jake's face and injured foot.

"Dr. Mike, what should I do?" Matthew looked up helplessly.

Frowning, Michaela leaned forward to inspect Jake's foot in detail.

"It's only a graze," she spoke quietly, showing little interest.

Matthew immediately went to fetch her medical bag from the mantle. "Here," he placed it between them on the end of the bed.

Michaela automatically reached for the clasp and opened the bag before remembering it would prove little use; William had removed everything bar her stethoscope, several bandages and a pair of tweezers.

"Damn," she sighed, looking from her bag to Jake's bleeding foot.

"I'll go hitch up the wagon, we can take him into town," Matthew spoke cautiously.

Not having time to think the suggestion through any further, Michaela nodded, her attention drawn to her patient, as Jake let out another semi-conscious groan of pain.

Matthew shrugged, placing the lamp down on the bedside table and heading outside to get the wagon.

Colleen let out a high-pitched moan of shock, not having moved an inch from the fireplace. "What'd I do?" she gasped, her breathing forced and panicked.

"It's all right, Colleen, Ma'll fix him," Brian stroked his sister's arm.

Michaela remained seated on the edge of the bed, waiting for Jake to open his eyes completely. She felt the shock wash over her, looking down to see her left hand trembling against Jake's arm.

"Jake… wake up, Jake," she watched as the barber moved his head, oblivious to his present location.

"What, where…?" he stuttered, recognizing the face that looked over him immediately. "Dr. Mike? Where… where am I?" he gasped, feeling the pain traveling from his foot.

Michaela studied Jake's vacant expression, trying to integrate the terror she'd felt minutes earlier, with the genuine confusion on his face.

"Dr. Mike…" Jake repeated, this time more desperately, as he reached for her arm.

Michaela broke the contact immediately, her reply succinct and void of emotion, "You're out at the homestead, Jake. You've been shot."

"Homestead? How?" he answered slowly, managing to lift himself upright enough to see around the room.

"You don't remember?" Michaela frowned suspiciously, fragments of sentences from minutes earlier coming back to her.

"No…" Jake replied, bewildered. "Dr. Mike… Dr. Mike… you all right?" Jake suddenly remembered the images from his nightmare.

"Not particularly. Jake, what are you doing out here?" Michaela spoke in utter exasperation, anger slowly starting to rise to the surface.

"I… I musta had another nightmare…" Jake trailed off studying her face intently. "But you ain't hurt… musta been a dream," he felt the panic slowly dissipate.

"Colleen, how come ya shot Mr. Slicker?" Brian asked, confused.

"Didn't… didn't know it was him!" she spluttered, her chin trembling in disbelief.

"Ma, why'd Mr. Slicker come out here in the middle of the night? Why'd Colleen shoot him?" Brian crept slowly over to the side of the bed.

"It's all right, Brian. We have to go into town. I want you to take Colleen and get dressed," Michaela looked back down at Jake, hearing the little boy walk barefooted back across the floorboards.

"Dr. Mike?" she turned back at the sound of Jake's voice. "How'd I get here?" he muttered helplessly.

Michaela sighed, slowly bringing her hand to his arm, "It's all right, Jake,"

Brian searched for his trousers, eventually finding them under his cot, as he struggled to get them on, he noticed Colleen hadn't moved from the edge of her bed. "C'mon Colleen. Ma said we gotta get dressed."

Colleen looked up at the sound of her name, still remembering the sights and sounds that had torn her from sleep. "Huh?"

"Gotta get dressed," Brian prodded, seeing her dress by the end of the bed. "Here."

Michaela heard the children conversing, as she still tried to make sense of what had just occurred. Whilst on a rational level, she felt she was beginning to understand Jake's actions, there was an emotional uncertainly that lingered.

"Dr. Mike?" Jake looked over to her again, "Loren said… said you're havin' a baby. Is it true?"

Forcing herself to keep his gaze, Michaela could merely nod in confirmation.

"Was hopin'… maybe that was a dream too," he sighed, moving his foot, and then feeling the sharp pain hit him again. Jake kept his tone even, "Dr. Mike?"

"What Jake?" she drew a cautious breath, beginning to sense they were no longer in the same reality.

"My foot hurts," he trailed off, suddenly sounding like a boy of Brian's age. "Why does my foot hurt?"

Michaela frowned, seeing the blankness in his expression. "Ssh… just rest, Jake," she stood to check on his foot, before collecting her dressing gown from the back of the rocking chair, moving across to the dressing area to change.

**X.O.X**

Loren rolled over, reaching for his pillow in the darkness. Patting it out, he pulled the blanket up around his neck.

Just as he felt slumber entice him, Loren startled at the sound of an approaching wagon.

Blinking, he sat up, hearing the horse's gallops become stronger.

He felt his tired, worn out body crack and twinge against the movement, but forced himself to his feet, squinting through the window in an attempt to make out the wagon below.

It took him seconds, before he saw several familiar heads.

"Dorothy! _Dorothy_, wake up!" he bellowed, darting out into the corridor, to rouse her from her sleep.

**X.O.X**

"Matthew, help me get him inside. I need you to look after Colleen and Brian. Take them upstairs," Michaela looked over to Matthew from the back of the wagon, feeling the horses draw to a halt.

"Sure, Ma," the young man answered, quickly securing the horses and arriving at the back of the wagon.

"Jake, Matthew's going to take you inside," Michaela touched his arm lightly, just enough to wake him from a light doze.

"Ma," Matthew extended an arm towards her, helping her down.

Both turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Michaela!" Dorothy called, remaining several paces behind Loren.

Loren's jaw dropped, recognizing Jake in the back of the wagon. "What happened?"

Matthew turned, remaining between his mother and Loren. "Dunno, Jake come out to the homestead,"

"Aww, no," Loren trailed off, his gaze lowering.

"But what's wrong with him?" Dorothy interjected, seeing the blood on his trousers.

"Colleen shot him," Matthew shrugged, there being no easy way to answer Dorothy's question.

"She what?" Dorothy frowned, gripping Loren's shoulder.

"He'll be fine, it's superficial. Matthew, can you take him inside," Michaela saw several lanterns in the distance, and moved towards the Clinic door, having no desire to remain out on the sidewalk any longer.

"What the devil was Jake doin' out at your place?" Loren watched as Matthew lifted Jake from the wagon, rousing him and awkwardly getting him over to the Clinic.

"I've not yet been able to establish that, Loren," Michaela answered quickly, just wanting to get inside.

"He, he ain't been too well lately, Dr. Mike," Loren muttered, feeling responsible for Jake's actions.

"That's one way of putting it. Excuse me," Michaela sighed, quickly following after Matthew.

"Hey, Mr. Bray?" Brian tugged on his sleeve, the older man looking down with a huff.

"What is it, boy?" he groused.

"How come Jake came out to the homestead at night?" Brian frowned, not having been able to clear that issue up.

"Come on, son. Let's get you up to bed, it's the middle of the night," Loren was just about to reach down to lift Brian up, when they all heard the clattering of objects from inside.

"Loren?" Dorothy looked up, all three moving briskly to the clinic door, unprepared for the scene that was to unfold.

Opening the door, Loren saw Jake, in the far corner of the Clinic, completely conscious, alert to any movement around him.

Michaela, Matthew and Colleen remained around the examination table, eyes moving from the assortment of instruments, bottles and bandages Jake had just sent flying, and Jake's paranoid expression of terror.

"What's the matter with him?" Loren frowned, gently closing the door and immediately getting everyone's attention.

"He just woke up, jumped down off the bed," Matthew answered, seeing Jake's eyes dart over to the closing door.

"Loren?" the barber muttered in recognition. "Loren… ya gotta help me… you'll help me, won't ya?" Jake's voice dropped to a desperate beg.

Loren quickly found four pairs of eyes staring at him, the older man not accustomed to so much attention. "Ah, sure. Sure Jake," he cleared his throat, slowly walking across the room, careful not to step on any of the objects that were scattered over the floor. "Jake, it's me. Loren," he kept his voice low, watching as Jake's face seemed to calm.

"Loren?" Jake's eyes widened, "I don't understand what's happenin'. Don't remember nothin'. What happened to my foot?" he gestured down to the blood staining his lower leg and foot.

"Now, just calm down there, Jake, everything be all right. You hurt your foot and Dr. Mike needs to fix it, all right?" Loren arrived beside him, carefully placing a hand on Jake's shoulder.

Jake looked suspiciously in Michaela's direction, "Dr. Mike?" he stammered, as if struggling to recognize her.

Moving cautiously over to Jake's side, Michaela tentatively applied the gauze to the injury, not able to hide her wariness at Jake's unpredictable behavior. "Loren, do you think you'd be able to get him back to the examination table, so I can suture the wound?"

"Come on Jake, gotta come over lay on the bed," Loren squeezed Jake's shoulder, guiding him in a supported shuffle back towards the table.

Colleen backed quickly away, the moment Jake came less than three feet from her. "I better take Brian up to bed," she muttered, turning around to where the little boy stood huddled by the door. "Come on, Brian," she took his hand and disappeared quickly upstairs.

Michaela and Matthew exchanged glances at Colleen's sudden departure, however their attention was quickly draw back to Jake, who Loren had managed to get laying on the examination table.

About to begin tending to his foot, Michaela felt Jake's hand on her wrist, "Dr. Mike?" he murmured, still disoriented.

"You'll be fine Jake, just a few stitches," she tried to assure him, freeing her wrist from his grasp.

"But you're all right, ain't ya? Tell me it was just a dream," Jake kept his eyes on her, feeling the emotions of both reality and hallucination meld together.

"Everything is fine, Jake," Loren assured, patting his shoulder supportively. "I'm sorry, Dr. Mike… he's been outa sorts for weeks… drinkin', havin' nightmares… Got worse just after ya left," Loren watched as Michaela began cleaning up the bullet wound.

"Well perhaps that explains his peculiar behavior tonight," she sighed, aware of the dull ache from her left wrist, crossing the room and locating her suture set on the desk.

"He keeps havin' these nightmares… from before… Thinks ya still out there… ya know… like his mind ain't remembered that we found ya… He's been havin' awful dreams, about findin' ya, that it was too late…" Loren trailed off, very awkwardly, watching as Michaela slowly began suturing Jake's foot. "And when ya were in Boston, just made it worse, coz ya weren't here. I tried to reassure him, but don't look like it done no good," Loren shook his head, seeing Matthew's stern glare.

"You can say that again. He nearly got himself killed tonight," Matthew asserted harshly, "not to mention all the grief he caused, terrifyin' everyone in the middle of the night,"

"Matthew," Michaela cut him off abruptly, tying off the suture, "Would you go upstairs and check on Colleen and Brian, please?"

"Sure Ma," the young man nodded, "Let me know if ya need me," he shrugged and quietly made his way back upstairs.

"There," Michaela secured the bandage around Jake's foot, looking over as he groaned a semi-conscious acknowledgement of pain. "It's all right Jake, just rest," she touched his forehead lightly, shaking her head as she remembered the past hour.

"I'll let him rest for a little while, then we'll move him upstairs." she spoke quietly.

Loren nodded, turning back towards the door, "Best go let Dorothy know he's all right," Loren opened the clinic door and stepped outside onto the verandah.

Dorothy stood from the bench the moment she heard the door open.

"Just you out here?" Loren asked, expecting to see more people.

"Yeah… most people were more interested in gettin' back to bed. I told 'em weren't nothin' serious," she frowned, "it ain't, is it?"

"No, Dr. Mike says Jake'll be fine," Loren folded his arms as he took a seat tiredly. "Dunno what to do about him, though… just seems to be gettin' worse,"

"Jake?" Dorothy probed gently, slowly sitting down next to Loren.

"Yeah." He sighed. "Can't believe he really went out there… broke into the homestead in the dead of night… Jake's lucky Colleen's a bad shot,"

The reporter in Dorothy locked onto one strange detail, "He broke in? I don't understand. Why'd _Colleen_ shoot him?"

"How should I know? Jake musta gone out there to check on Dr. Mike… Maybe Colleen just woke up first," Loren looked up as Dorothy stood up. "Where ya goin'?"

"Something about this ain't feelin' right… gonna see if Michaela's all right," Dorothy moved towards the door, Loren still absorbing her words.

Michaela looked up at the sound of the door opening once again.

"Jake gonna be all right?" Dorothy asked as she stepped inside, gently closing the door behind her.

"Yes, he'll be fine in a week or so," Michaela nodded, noticing that Jake had fallen back to sleep.

"What about you?" Dorothy continued without missing a beat, arriving beside Michaela next to the examination table.

"I don't understand," she looked up from the instruments she'd been sterilizing.

"Musta been pretty unnerving tonight…" Dorothy ventured, carefully observing her friend's reaction. "Loren said Jake broke in,"

Michaela kept her eyes lowered, concentrating on what she was doing. "Yes," she muttered succinctly.

"Musta been frightening?" Dorothy offered, not surprised by Michaela's characteristic stoicism.

Slipping the instruments back into the wooden case, Michaela sighed, eventually looking up towards her friend. "Dorothy, what do you want me to say? Yes, it was frightening. But it's over, and from the sounds of it, what Jake needs is our support," she closed the instrument case and placed it back on the corner of the desk, wincing as she remembered her sprained wrist.

"Michaela?" Dorothy stepped around the table immediately, hearing her friend's pained gasp.

"I'm fine, It's just a sprain," Michaela drew a soothing breath, reaching for a bandage and beginning to secure it around her left wrist.

"Here," Dorothy arrived by her side, quickly assisting her. "How'd you do that?" she looked up as she finished tying off the ends of the bandage as neatly as she could.

Michaela shook her head, reluctantly having to remember, "When Colleen fired the shot, I misjudged how close I was to the side of the bed… I fell," she shrugged.

"Heavens, are you all right?" Dorothy shifted her eyes from Michaela's face, down to her stomach and then back up.

"I wish I'd known it was Jake at the time, is all," Michaela felt the fear renew itself, remembering the sensation of his hands on her shoulders; of his fingers against her neck.

"I don't understand. What do you mean you didn't know?" Dorothy shook her head in genuine confusion.

"How could I? It was pitch black. I work up to someone standing over me… The next thing I knew, he had his hands on my shoulders and I couldn't move. I didn't even recognize his voice… I couldn't believe it was actually happening. By the time I did, there was nothing I could do except try to get away. Before I knew it, I heard Colleen screaming, and then the gunshot. I was still on the floor when Matthew came in, and told us it was Jake." Michaela swallowed, pushing away the tears that threatened to collect in her eyes. "It all makes sense now… it wasn't Jake's fault; he couldn't help it," she reasoned, feeling the calmness gradually return.

"Well I must say, you're bein' extremely understandin' given the circumstances." Dorothy muttered, watching Michaela's eyes glaze over.

"I'll get Loren to help move Jake upstairs," Michaela spoke quietly, pulling herself back from the memories and sensations, quickly opening the door to fetch him.

Dorothy remained silent as Loren roused Jake and helped him to his feet, the two slowly making their way upstairs. "Anything I can do, Michaela?" she offered, knowing when to leave well enough alone.

"No thank-you, Dorothy." Michaela shook her head wearily, I'll check on Jake and then try and get some rest,"

"I'd be happy to sit with him overnight?" Dorothy offered immediately, seeing Michaela glance around the room, making sure everything was in order.

"It should be fine." she ran her hands wearily over her face, "I'll have Matthew come get you if need be," she nodded, resting her hand on the banister of the staircase.

"If you're sure," Dorothy stepped forward to deliberately brush Michaela's arm, "Take care,"

Michaela nodded, as Loren arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

"Got him into bed. Seems to be settled all right," Loren licked his lips nervously, not over confident, given Jake's behavior over the past few weeks.

"Thank-you Loren. I'll have Matthew come and get you should we need any assistance." She waited at the bottom of the stairs as both Dorothy and Loren made their way back outside, everyone keen to get back to sleep.

Ascending to the top of the stairs slowly, Michaela saw the flicker of the lamp in the first room, smiling as she entered, Colleen having turned down the bed for her.

Walking quietly down the hallway, Michaela looked in on Jake first. The barber was peacefully sleeping, the serene expression on his face oblivious to the night's chaos.

Michaela continued down to the final recovery room, her right hand moving automatically to her stomach, stroking back lightly against the baby's movement.

Quietly arriving in the doorway, she saw all three children fast asleep, Brian wrapped in Colleen's secure embrace in the large bed, whilst Matthew slept protectively on the nearby cot.

She shook her head, momentarily marveling in her children's resilience.

Making her way back up to the first room, Michaela loosened her skirt and removed her shawl, before slipping into the inviting bed.

Dimming the lamp beside her, she settled down in the unfamiliar bed, immediately remembering the last time she'd stared up at this particular ceiling.

_If only I'd known what the next six months had in store back then._

Michaela sighed, moving her hand on her stomach slowly. She allowed her mind to wander, fully aware of the fact that her getting to sleep relied totally on someone else falling asleep first.

_There's nothing I could have done to change this, even if I'd known._

She rolled over onto her left side, sleep beckoning from behind her dropped eyelids.

Able to feel the child's frequent movements, Michaela couldn't fall asleep. Her mind drifted back over the events of the last few hours, reassuring herself that there was no rational basis for the anxiety that she'd been feeling ever since.

_Jake didn't mean it, he was only concerned for me._

_Will he remember at all? It's so awkward. What am I going to do about Sully? _

She sighed, knowing Sully would be a bigger problem than Jake.

_He won't understand what Jake was going through, how could he? _

She forced the thoughts in her mind to cease, knowing nothing mattered until tomorrow anyway. The baby eventually settling, Michaela felt sleep creep closer and closer, aware of a security knowing she was surrounded by those she loved.


	93. Chapter 93

**Chapter 93**

**X.O.X**

**Wednesday, 20****th**** September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

"Brian… stop it," Colleen mumbled, feeling the little boy begin kicking her once again.

"Hmm," he mumbled, rolling over, not yet fully awake.

"Brian Cooper," Colleen sighed, forcing her eyes open, to see the early morning sunshine stream through the bedroom window.

Momentarily disoriented, she quickly realized she was back in her old bedroom. Looking over at Brian, she felt her eyes stay open longer and longer as her body no longer fought the desire to return to sleep.

"Colleen?" Matthew saw his sister stir, already up and dressed, standing quietly in the corridor.

"I'm awake," she groaned, pushing away the quilt and pulling herself to the edge of the bed.

Padding over the familiar floorboards, Colleen arrived out into the hallway, taking a slightly envious look back at Brian, "just like him, didn't ever stir," she rolled her eyes, turning back to Matthew, "Dr. Mike awake?"

"Don't think so," Matthew shrugged, seeing Colleen stop outside the next room where Jake was still sleeping, "You hear him overnight?" she asked, not having a single memory of the past few hours sleep aside from the occasional kick from Brian.

"No, musta slept right through," Matthew arrived behind Colleen as she tentatively entered the room. "Mr. Slicker?" she spoke quietly, not sure if she wanted him to be awake or not.

Cautiously making her way over to the bed, she frowned, seeing the calm expression on his face, as he remained peacefully asleep.

Waiting several moments in silence, Colleen shook her head, pacing back out to the corridor, "What time is it?"

"After eight… but don't think they got to sleep until at least four. I'll stay here keep an eye on Jake, you wanna go over Grace's organize some breakfast?" Matthew hinted keenly.

"You're as bad as Brian… food, food, food," she smiled nonetheless, "Just gonna check on Dr. Mike," she watched as Matthew headed downstairs, before moving up to the last room.

Hovering in the doorway, Colleen felt the eerie deja-vu wash over her, seeing Michaela's long hair trailed over her shoulder as she slept.

She thought back over the previous night, still able to feel the heaviness of the shotgun in her hands, and hear the echoing of the shot she'd fired.

_What if I'd killed him? I know it wasn't my fault, but… I can't believe I could have ended another person's life… and what if I hadn't shot him… I coulda shot Ma._

_Ma's right… violence in any form is never the answer. I could've got Matthew… or tried to find out who it was… I was just lucky that it turned out this well._

She yawned, wiping her eyes wearily from the lack of sleep. _Best go get breakfast for everyone._

Colleen's gaze lingered over her mother for several moments, trying to reconcile the memories from months earlier. _No matter what, it could have been worse. It will be all right._

She pulled herself from the doorframe, fixing up her slightly creased blouse and skirt as she slowly descended the stairs.

**X.O.X**

Michaela squinted against the sharp ray of sunlight that had filled the room, gradually remembering the events of the night before. As she pushed the memory away, the more discouraging reminder of the events of the last six months hit,. Memories surfaced, like a lead weight pushing down on her shoulders; as they had down every morning since the moment she'd woken up in the very same room.

_At least it wasn't the first thing I thought of for once… _

Pulling herself into a sitting position, she heard Brian's quick footsteps in the corridor and the conversation that ensued.

"Matthew! Wait up, I wanna come!" Brian called eagerly, having only just woken up and eager to join his brother over at Loren's.

"Brian, Colleen's gettin' breakfast, you'll miss out," Matthew ruffled his brother's hair.

"No I won't; can keep watch from Mr. Bray's. Please can I come, Matthew? Be just like old times. You and me goin' to the store then comin' home to breakfast… 'member Ma used to make us take our boots off at the door, coz they were all muddy in the mornin' if it'd been rainin'," he chuckled.

"Yeah… and I also remember how often you used to forget!" Matthew teased, leaning over to tickle Brian.

"Yeah I, I was younger," he gasped through giggles.

Michaela let her eyes drop closed again, enjoying the children's contented banter.

Able to hear the bustling from the street, people passing, horses pulling wagons, she couldn't deny that there was something comforting about being surrounded by a town full of people.

Pushing her hair back from her face, Michaela felt the fatigue cloud her mind, immediately remembering her patient in the next room.

"Dr. Mike?" Matthew poked his head around the door, seeing her move. "Brian and me goin' over to Loren's… Colleen's gettin' breakfast, and Jake's still sleepin'," Matthew waited until she'd turned her head in response.

"Thank-you, Matthew… I'll go check on him," she sighed.

Matthew nodded and turned, following Brian as the young boy clambered down the stairs.

Michaela reluctantly pushed away the quilt and got to her feet. She fastened the skirt behind her back and ran her fingers through her slightly matted hair.

The events of the night before replayed themselves over, as she replaited her hair and crossed the room to the corridor.

Arriving in the doorway of the second recovery room, Michaela watched as Jake remained asleep; she struggled to integrate the trauma of the previous night with the reality she now saw before her.

"Jake?" she arrived by the side of the bed, gingerly touching his shoulder.

He stirred, opening his eyes quickly and letting out a groan of disorientation.

"Jake, you're in the Clinic," she spoke quietly, watching as he absorbed his surroundings.

"Clinic? Dr. Mike, what," he trailed off, looking down as he felt the mild ache from his foot.

"You don't remember?" Michaela asked skeptically.

"Remember?" his voice was gruffer, "What the heck am I doin' here?" Jake felt himself become frustrated by his vulnerability.

"It's all right," she soothed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Michaela sensed they were now in the same reality, but wanted to be sure. "Jake, can you tell me what day it is?"

He frowned, stuttering, "Tue-Tuesday… no... was closin' the shop… is it Wednesday?" he turned back to her, rattled by his confusion.

"It's Wednesday morning, Jake. What can you tell me about yesterday? You said you'd closed the shop… then what do you remember?" Michaela prodded gently, the helpless expression on his face banishing any anger she may have felt.

Jake shook his head, genuinely trying to remember. "Was… closin' the shop," he trailed off, "went over to Loren's, but he weren't there…" Jake sighed, now clearly remembering where his night had ended. "Ended up at Hank's," he looked away, able to predict Michaela's response.

"And that's all you remember?" she clarified, keeping her voice neutral.

"That's enough, ain't it? I get into a fight or somethin'?" Jake looked down to his foot.

Michaela shook her head slowly, at a loss for how to explain the previous night's events, preferring to change the subject, "Let me check your foot,"

Carefully, she pushed the bedclothes aside, satisfied that there was no abnormal swelling or discharge from the wound.

Jake watched the concern on her face, as she tendered to his injury and drew the quilt back over his leg.

"You should be fine in a day or so. How's the pain?" Michaela sat back on the edge of the bed, preferring to think as little as possible about the night before.

"A little sore, had worse," Jake shrugged, quite comforted by her presence beside him. Although uneasy about the gaps in his memory; he was used to it by now.

"Just try and get some more rest. I'll check on you again later," she stood from the bed, noticing Jake's preoccupied expression.

"Thanks Dr. Mike," Jake replied quietly.

"Colleen should be bringing some breakfast up in a little while," she nodded, crossing the room to the doorway.

"Dr. Mike?" he looked up hesitantly.

"Yes, Jake," she turned.

"Glad, glad you're back," he held her gaze uncomfortably.

"Thank-you," Michaela remained by the doorway, accepting that Jake had nbo recollection whatever of his nocturnal sortie. Turning back out into the hallway, she heard his voice again.

"Dr. Mike?" Jake flickered his eyes between the floorboards and her face.

"Jake?" she rested her right hand on the doorframe.

"Wanted you to know I'm real sorry about things turnin' out the way they did," he shrugged, keeping his gaze downcast.

Michaela frowned, considering the softness in his voice. "Loren said you've been having trouble sleeping. That you've been having nightmares?" she walked slowly back into the room, waiting by the bed until she gauged his reaction.

Jake followed her movements, unconsciously noticing her physical condition, yet quickly dropping his eyes back to the bed. He processed her question as she sat beside him. "Ah, yeah... can't explain it – weren't even drinkin' at first… only started when the drinkin' made them seem less real," he ran his fingertips over the embroidered quilt on his chest.

"What were the nightmares about?" she enquired carefully, knowing all too well, but curious to see whether Jake would admit it.

Jake paused, not moving an inch, "You," he whispered. "It don't make no sense… for months now I been gettin' nightmares… goin' over and over the day we found ya… That we couldn't find ya… or that we did and we were too late," Jake lowered his eyes, appreciating that it was a sensitive topic. "And I don't know why… only kids gets nightmares," Jake shrugged in frustration.

Michaela sighed, reaching for his arm. "That's not true; everyone gets nightmares, Jake."

"You had 'em too?" he asked tentatively, seeing the genuine compassion on her face.

"Not the same as yours, but I've had others," Michaela was surprised at how easy it was to speak openly with Jake.

"Weren't you afraid a dyin'?" Jake asked somewhat shocked.

"No," she answered without hesitation. "I was more afraid of what people would think, how they would treat me. Especially now. For me, the nightmares came later. Everyone deals with trauma in their own way. We just have to find out what will help _you_," she moved the conversation back onto a professional level.

"But what I don't understand is… you're fine… I mean, we rescued you. So why doesn't my brain remember that? Why does it keep goin' over and over this stuff?" Jake sat up awkwardly.

"Well, the only explanation I've found, is that the mind remembers what we're afraid of… and if we can't solve it whilst we're awake; it tries to solve the fear during sleep." Michaela spoke confidently.

"So how do I make 'em stop?" he answered in a dejected tone.

"Jake, you have to stop drinking. Alcohol effects sleep, it's probably making the nightmares worse. It might have helped at the start, but it isn't any more. It's making you hallucinate; see and hear things that aren't real. You've been having blackouts again; you could have been killed last night," she heard her voice become more direct with each word.

"Dr. Mike, what happened?" Jake's eyes widened, unnerved by the absence of memory.

Unsure of just how much to disclose, Michaela clasped her hands in her lap, as she reluctantly turned her gaze back to Jake. "You came out to the homestead, last night. Very late. We didn't know it was you, Jake." she sighed, knowing she had to tell him the truth, "Colleen shot you," she stated simply, more interested at that moment in Jake's reaction.

He remained silent, repeating her words over in his head, trying to salvage some memory. A gunshot. He could hear a gunshot. Symbolically glancing down towards his foot, Jake swallowed. "I can't remember," he spoke in a timid voice.

"It's all right," Michaela patted his arm, seeing the helplessness on Jake's face.

"I… musta had a nightmare… few weeks ago, while you were away, Loren said I came over the mercantile in the dead of night… wantin' to go out and check on ya… Dr. Mike what's wrong with me? I don't even remember…" Jake's voice became more distressed which each sentence.

"Jake, calm down," Michaela's voice strengthened, knowing that she had absolutely no way of controlling him should he become more agitated.

"Dr. Mike, I'm sorry. Geez, I musta scared ya all somethin' shockin'… I'm so sorry. Ya gotta help me," he pleaded, reaching instinctively for her wrist.

Michaela winced, managing to pull her sprained wrist from Jake's grasp, "I will, Jake," she drew a pained breath, protectively resting her arm against her stomach, "But you have to promise me that you won't touch another drop of alcohol." She watched as her words registered in his mind.

"But what if I can't sleep," he trailed off, feeling the hopelessness return.

"I'll give you something to take if it becomes intolerable, but no alcohol, Jake," Michaela voiced sternly. "It's only making it harder in the long run,"

"All right," he muttered glibly, starting to feel guilt seap across his chest. "I'm really sorry, Dr. Mike," he repeated slowly.

She sighed wearily, "I know, Jake. I promise you, we're going to get you through this,"

Jake nodded, albeit less confidently, both looking towards the door at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

**X.O.X**

Loren watched from behind the counter as Brian eyed the assortment of candy. "Little early in the day to be thinkin' a candy, ain't it boy?" he gruffed, not managing to get back to sleep after the previous night's events.

"Guess so," Brian shrugged, having hoped it would have brightened him up.

"Anything else ya needed, Matthew?" Loren began adding up the items Matthew had placed on the counter.

"Two bags a grain, thanks Mr. Bray," Matthew muttered.

"Right," Loren fetched the bags, his back protesting as he lifted the first bag up to the counter. "Aw," he sighed, "terrible thing old age, son,"

"Here, I'll," Matthew tried to reach for the second bag, Loren brushing him off immediately.

"Nah, nah… I ain't givin' in to it just yet," he heaved the second bag up, walking back around the counter to adjust the total.

"Dr. Mike's over with Jake… maybe ya oughta let her take a look at your back?" Matthew suggested.

"Didn't say it was that bad… Always gets like this 'round this time of year," Loren repeated the calculation, his discomfort growing.

"What – early fall?" Matthew replied automatically, only then realizing his comment was a little disrespectful. "Sorry," he shrugged.

"That's four dollars twenty," Loren huffed, dropping the pencil to the countertop.

"Just meant, ain't sure when Dr. Mike's gonna be back in town… if your back's troublin' ya, probably best take care of it now," Matthew handed Loren the money.

Loren placed the money into the black tin, a worried expression on his face, "what, she ain't comin' back to work?" Loren tilted his head.

Matthew shrugged, checking that Brian was out of earshot. "Sure doesn't look like it… Not after all the attention she got on Monday. I was surprised she even agreed to bring Jake into town."

Loren shook his head with a frown, "That's too bad, son. I can tell ya now, ain't anyone that bothered. All the women just sayin' how sorry they feel for her… and the men know enough to keep their mouth's shut." Loren was so involved in the conversation he didn't see Dorothy arrive by his side.

"If I didn't know better, Loren Bray, it'd sound to me like you were gossipin'," she raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Aw, woman. Ain't gossipin', just chattin'," Loren defended.

"Oh, I'll keep that answer in mind the next time you go accusin' me, shall I? Morning Matthew… how'd things go overnight?" Dorothy's wry smile melted into concern.

"All right, Miss Dorothy. Everyone slept right through. Dr. Mike said Jake's gonna be fine. Ah, well, his leg anyway," Matthew corrected, remembering the events in more detail.

"That's good to hear. Here, I'll help you with that, wanna come check on ya Ma," Dorothy collected several items from the countertop, as Matthew called Brian over.

"Thanks, Mr. Bray," Matthew nodded, "Brian, we're leavin'," he called.

"Take care, son." Loren muttered, rubbing his aching back.

"Such a shame about what happened last night," Dorothy glanced over towards Matthew as the three arrived onto the porch.

"Hmm, Jake's lucky he's already bedridden," Matthew grumbled.

Dorothy tilted her head, not having expected such anger in Matthew's response.

"Miss Dorothy, can I take that?" Brian reached for the tin of lard she held precariously in one arm.

"Thank-you, sweetheart," Dorothy smiled, as they walked over towards the Clinic.

"Hey, Colleen's got breakfast!" Brian announced, seeing the ajar Clinic door.

Matthew and Dorothy watched wearily at the boy's exuberance as he raced ahead.

"That child," she smiled as they all made their way inside.

**X.O.X**

"Mornin' Robert E." Sully leaned over the top of the fence, watching the Blacksmith finish shoeing a horse.

"Sully, good to see ya," Robert E. looked up, a smile broadening on his face as he patted the horse softly.

"Ya busy?" Sully moved around beside the workbench, pulling the tomahawk from his belt.

"Not really, couple a shoes to fit…" Robert E. chuckled, "still can't get used to ya without that mane, Sully… suits ya though," he reached for the tomahawk on the workbench.

"Hardly think about it anymore; just another stage in life, I guess. Was out with Cloud Dancing, guess I ain't been practicing too much, lately… missed the stump, sheared the blade right off," Sully explained, as Robert E. inspected the damage.

"You ain't kiddin'… Take me an hour or so," the blacksmith muttered, glancing over to the Clinic, "Been buzzin' 'round here this mornin' after all the excitement over night," he continued, as he began dismantling the tomahawk.

"Yeah?" Sully shrugged.

"Grace and I didn't budge an inch, heard about it over breakfast though, Good thing Jake's gonna be all right," Robert E. sighed.

"What happened?" Sully wasn't sure he wanted to know, having heard the rumors about Jake's drinking.

"You ain't heard?" Robert E. failed to conceal his surprise.

"No, but nothin' would surprise me when you put Jake Slicker together with too many drinks," Sully leaned back against the fence, wanting to change the subject.

"Ah, Sully… this might," Robert E. placed the tomahawk back on the bench, clearing his throat. "Bearin' in mind I only got this from Dorothy who told Grace this mornin'… Jake went out to Dr. Mike's… real early this mornin'… broke into the homestead… apparently Colleen'd shot him," Robert E. saw the panic and shock flash across Sully's face before he pushed himself from the fence, breaking into a run as he headed up the narrow alleyway towards the Clinic.

**X.O.X**

"He gonna be all right, Ma?" Colleen nibbled disinterestedly on a slice of toast.

"Jake will be absolutely fine, it wasn't your fault," Michaela tried once again to reassure the young girl, Colleen having been consumed by guilt all morning.

"What ya botherin' about him for, anyway? Ain't worth it," Matthew looked up, having been pacing slowly around the small recovery room, after declining breakfast.

"_Matthew,_" Michaela chided, seeing the confused look on Brian's face.

"Dr. Mike… how can you defend him?" Matthew exclaimed, his anger threatening to boil over.

"It wasn't his fault, Matthew," she insisted, taking a sip of tea.

"Since when do you let someone use alcohol as an excuse?" he frowned, lowering his voice as he sat on a chair at the end of the bed.

"It's not an excuse. Jake's not well at the moment. Besides, no one was hurt," Michaela knew she was fighting an uphill battle by the cold expression on her son's face.

"They coulda been," Matthew trailed off, looking to his younger siblings protectively.

"Jake got shot," Brian reminded everyone, "he got hurt,"

"Dr. Mike, what's wrong with him?" Colleen looked up, her voice soft.

She sighed, glancing unappetizingly down at the bowl of oatmeal. "I may as well tell you all the truth – but it needs to stay between us, for Jake's sake. Brian?" she looked over to the little boy with a raised eyebrow.

"It's private, I know Ma," he nodded confidently.

"Jake's been very distressed lately," Michaela began, proceeding to inform the children of her discussion with Jake that morning.

**X.O.X**

Dorothy quietly by Jake's bedside, having watched him sleep peacefully for over twenty minutes.

"Hmm," he stirred, opening in eyes, momentarily disoriented.

"Jake, it's all right," she spoke, leaning forwards in the chair.

"D-Dorothy?" he frowned, slowly recognizing her. He sighed, remembering where he was and why.

"Oh, Jake, what on earth has gotten into you?" she sighed unable to hide her disappointment.

He shook his head, picking up on the harshness in her voice. "Didn't mean it, didn't know what I was doin'," he defended quietly.

"Honestly, what kind of an excuse is that? You're a grown man… How could you be so selfish. Ain't you ever think about anyone 'sides yourself?" she rose to her feet, having wanted nothing more than an explanation from the moment she'd offered to sit with him.

"Told ya, I don't remember. Dr. Mike understands," he answered in a hollow voice.

"Sometimes I think Michaela is too understanding for her own good. Why of all the thoughtless things I've ever seen you do; breakin' into someone's home in the dead of night. Musta frightened them all somethin' fierce," she thought back over her conversation with Michaela from much earlier that morning.

"Didn't mean to," he repeated helplessly, "what do you want me to say?"

"Oh, there ain't nothin' you can say, Jake. I just can't believe, after everything Michaela's been through, you'd go and do something as selfish as this. Never mind the fact that waking up to a stranger in your home is going to terrify any woman; she coulda been seriously hurt. Coulda lost the baby, all thanks to you," Dorothy scolded, keeping her voice just low enough so as not to draw attention from the next room.

"What are ya talking about?" Jake swallowed, not sure whether there was more he couldn't remember, or if Dorothy was just using it to make him feel more guilty.

"You don't even remember, do you?" she scoffed in astonishment. "What did you do?" she narrowed her eyes, "Michaela was so desperate to get away from you, she ended up on the floor, sprained her wrist real bad," Dorothy felt the protectiveness rise in her chest.

"Oh God," Jake muttered, desperately searching the depths of his memory, "Dorothy, I, I don't know. She seemed fine this morning," Jake reasoned, Dorothy interceding in a fierce, skeptical tone.

"Well of course she did, she's your Doctor, Jake. And one thing Michaela is, is professional." Dorothy drew a calming breath, pushing away the memories of when her son had been in this same room less than a year earlier.

Jake felt his head move slowly from side to side, having no recollection of the night before, aside from the sound of the gunshot ringing in his ears.

"You think long and hard, Jake." Dorothy crossed her arms, moving swiftly towards the door.

Arriving out into the corridor, Dorothy startled at the heavy footsteps on the stairs. Seeing the figure arrive on the landing, she saw the raw fear in Sully's eyes.

"Dorothy, what's happened?" Sully struggled to catch his breath.

"Sully, everything's fine. They're just having breakfast," she gestured to the last recovery room at the opposite end of the corridor.

"But what happened?" he repeated, his breathing forced.

Dorothy was about to answer, realizing she didn't know all that much, "Speak to Michaela. She's the only one who knows for sure,"


	94. Chapter 94

**Chapter 94**

"Still ain't no excuse!" Matthew stood from the bed, not buying Michaela's explanation for Jake's behavior.

"Matthew, calm down," Colleen shrugged, turning to look up at him.

"He's a grown man," Matthew paced around the room angrily.

"It's not as simple as that," Michaela defended, feeling professionalism surface, "he's afraid, Matthew."

"Bunch a malarkey, ain't got no reason. Weren't him this happened to," Matthew shrugged deliberately.

Michaela frowned, reflecting on her son's words, "Yes, it was. That must be it."

"Nightmares can be real scary, Matthew. I know," Brian nodded assertively.

"What do ya mean, Dr Mike?" Colleen saw the contemplative look on her mother's face.

"I'd forgotten all about it. Last year, Jake was abducted," Michaela trailed off, expecting that the children would understand what she meant.

"So what? He wasn't hurt, was his own stupid fault, anyway," Matthew folded his arms.

Michaela sighed in exasperation, "That's not the point, Matthew, don't you see? The trauma of his abduction, he never processed it. It's as if, somehow, what happened to me, reminded him of his own fear," Michaela looked to Colleen for support.

"Kinda like Brian gettin' upset when you were gone, coz he was reminded of losin' Ma?" Colleen tilted her head.

"Yes, I think," Michaela looked up, hearing Matthew's sharp tone.

"Jake ain't no child!" he stormed over towards the door, opening it, not expecting to see Dorothy and Sully on the other side. "What took you so long?" he muttered sarcastically, pushing past Sully and descending the stairs quickly.

Sully glanced from Matthew's departing form, before sighing and stepping cautiously into the room. "Am I interruptin'?" he asked carefully.

Michaela shook her head slowly, confused about Matthew's strong behavior.

"Everythin' all right? Just heard about last night," Sully arrived into the room, looking suspiciously from Brian, to Colleen and then finally Michaela.

"Jake broke into the homestead, and Colleen shot him!" Brian announced with childish energy.

"Yeah, ah, that much I heard," Sully cleared his throat.

"Brian," Colleen rolled her eyes, "I didn't know it was him. Least weren't no harm done," she sighed.

"What the heck was he doin' out there?" Sully looked to Michaela for a response.

"He wanted to check on me," she shrugged, not wishing to discuss the issue any further.

"In the middle of the night?" Sully raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, Brian, help me take the breakfast stuff back to Miss Grace's," Colleen reached for the nearby tray, moving quickly from the edge of the bed.

Sully watched as the younger children quickly left the room, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall.

Stifling a tired yawn, Michaela stood up, walking briskly around the edge of the bed towards the doorway.

"Michaela, ya all right?" Sully frowned, knowing the less she talked about something, the bigger the problem was.

"I'm fine," she nodded, pausing just long enough to catch his gaze.

Sully was about to let the matter drop, when he noticed the bandage on her left hand. "How'd ya hurt ya hand?" he kept his voice calm.

Stopping once again by the doorway, Michaela glanced downwards automatically, "It's just a sprain," she dismissed quickly.

"Yeah, but how'd it happen?" Sully repeated in a low tone.

Michaela drew a slow breath, knowing it was pointless trying to ignore his questions, however also acutely aware of what his response would be. "I fell," she quickly preempted his next question, "I'm fine,"

Arriving out into the corridor, Michaela assumed she'd answered Sully's questions sufficiently until she heard his footsteps behind her.

"How?" he repeated, reaching for her upper arm.

"Sully, everything is fine," she repeated quietly, appreciating their proximity to Jake's room.

"Well, I'm guessin' the fact that you ain't tellin' me what happened is either because you think it's gonna bother me, or you don't want me knowin'. Either way, just convinces me that everythin' ain't fine. Now do I gotta get the truth from Colleen, or?" he saw her eyes drop.

Turning, she paced carefully back towards the first recovery room, waiting until he'd followed before gently closing the door.

"I only overreacted because I didn't know it was Jake," Michaela let her eyes drop closed wearily for several moments.

"Michaela, what happened?" Sully made a deliberate effort to keep his voice calm.

"I woke up. At first I thought it was Brian by the side of the bed," she kept her voice low and evenly-paced, very matter-of-fact. "I didn't know who it was, it was too dark – I wasn't thinking clearly and I panicked. I fell," she concluded succinctly.

Sully didn't move, but merely deepened the expression of worry on his face.

"I'm more concerned about Jake at the moment," Michaela stated crisply as she opened the door, surprised that Sully had taken her explanation so calmly.

Stepping out into the corridor, Michaela turned back to him, dismissing the dark expression that remained on his motionless face.

**X.O.X**

"You need to take it easy for a few days, Loren. At least until the pain subsides," Michaela finished the examination, crossing the room to retrieve the small bottle.

"The store ain't gonna take care of itself," he grumbled, carefully putting his shirt back on.

"I'll have Matthew come and help you when he can. Just for a few days. If you don't, you could do permanent damage, and then the pain won't subside at all," she looked up, handing him the medication. "Take a sip with each meal, or if the pain becomes worse."

"Thanks, Dr Mike," Loren nodded, as he finished dressing.

"Here," Michaela smiled, helping him with his jacket.

"Jake gonna be all right?" Loren handed her the money, gesturing upstairs.

"Oh, he'll be fine, so long as he stops drinking," Michaela nodded, seeing the genuine concern on the older man's face.

"Dr Mike, I'm sorry I didn't stop Jake last night. Just can't believe he didn't come get me like before." Loren lowered his gaze, shaking his head.

"It's not your fault, Loren," she reassured, patting his arm softly.

Loren let his eyes rest on her hand against his forearm. "You gonna come back to work?" he wasn't sure where the question had come from, surprising himself when he heard his own voice.

Michaela dropped her hand, looking out through the window towards the bustling street. "I'm not sure," she sighed.

"Lot a people need you, Dr Mike," he reminded gently.

She turned her gaze back towards him, a confused expression on her face. "They need a doctor, Loren. They don't need _me,_" she differentiated deliberately, seeing the older man's delayed response.

Both eyed each other uncomfortably for several moments, before Loren awkwardly turned towards the clinic door. "Thanks," he muttered, clearing his throat and thoughtfully making his way back to the general store.

Michaela turned back to the examination table, slowly smoothing out the sheet as she reflected on their conversation. _What am I so afraid of? What do I want?_

She knew the answer to the first question, yet the latter left her deep in thought.

_The same thing I've wanted for the last six months; I want my life back._

Michaela slowly began returning the instruments to her medical bag on the desk.

_Why do I keep hanging on to that? I want to be the person I was before, but I can't. I never will be. I don't want to be afraid anymore; the feeling that every moment of every day, I'm waiting for something terrible to happen._

She absent-mindedly reached her hand to her wrist, able to feel her pulse strongly against her fingertips. Swallowing, Michaela dropped her hand to her medical bag, noticing the smoothness of the black leather.

Michaela looked up, startled by the footsteps in the hallway.

"Jake wants ta see ya," Sully arrived into the room, his voice stripped of any emotion.

"Thank-you," she drew a reorienting breath, swiftly pacing across the room, not looking at him until she felt his hand on her arm.

"You all right?" he asked quietly.

Slowly pulling her arm from his grasp, Michaela studied the empty expression on his face. "No," she admitted honestly, seeing his eyes narrow, "but I'm used to it,"

Michaela let her words linger as she walked into the corridor, reaching for the banister of the stairs, offering a silent prayer that he wasn't going to follow her upstairs.

He's as bad as the rest of them. Or maybe it is me? Maybe I am supposed to be all right. When am I supposed to get over this? As if I'm going to wake up one morning and life will feel normal again.

**X.O.X**

"How come I gotta go to school when Colleen don't?" Brian huffed, tired and not eager to spend another day defending his family against his classmates.

"The two are not mutually exclusive, Brian; Colleen going or not going to school has no impact on you whatsoever," Michaela folded her eyes, knowing she needed to have a private chat with her daughter.

"Huh?" he looked up, confused.

"It makes no difference what Colleen does or does not do. You are going to school, young man." Michaela reached for his shoulder, directing the little boy out towards to hallway.

"Ain't fair," Brian frowned, pouting and squinting his eyes.

"Actually, you've probably had more time off school than she has, if you wanted to start keeping count?" Michaela gestured towards the stairs.

"But all they're doin' is organisin' the sports day, and I don't even wanna go," he sighed, turning back to face his mother.

"Why is that?" Michaela frowned, seeing the misery cross his face.

"I just don't," he shrugged, "you ain't gonna go, are you Ma?"

Michaela reached both her hands to his shoulders, realizing she'd dismissed the little boy's aversion for childish tantrum. "Brian, of course I want to see you in the sports day," she smiled, kissing the top of his head.

"You do?" he raised his eyebrows. "But what if the other kids say bad stuff again?" he dropped his gaze, not wanting to look at her.

Michaela sighed, realizing the children in this town were proving a bigger problem than the adults. "It will be all right, sweetheart," she squeezed his shoulder, "I promise,"

Brian looked up, seeing the unwavering reassurance on his mother's face. "Thanks, Ma," he smiled, moving forwards to hug her.

"You just have a good day," she watched him scurry towards the stairs.

"I will," Brian smiled, waving as he ran down the steps.

**X.O.X**

Michaela found Colleen upstairs, laying curled on the bed, chewing on her thumbnail. "Colleen, I hoped to have a chance to speak with you. I'm worried about you,"

Colleen shrugged, rolling over to make eye contact, "I know it was only Jake, Dr Mike. Know he didn't mean no harm. But I still feel all edgy inside, like… like every sound, every movement is somethin' bad just about to happen. Like I did last year. Except, didn't feel so bad last year," she trailed off.

"It wasn't your fault, Colleen. You did the right thing." Michaela watched as the young girl paced around the end of the bed.

"But that was only luck. I coulda killed him!" she exclaimed, arms flailing as she sank down onto the edge of the bed.

"The important thing is you didn't," Michaela corrected swiftly.

"So, is that all that matters? The end result?" Colleen frowned, feeling the anxiety renew itself in her chest.

Michaela frowned, seeing the terror on her daughter's face. "I don't understand," she quickly arrived by Colleen's side, gripping her shoulder strongly.

"Well, you're sayin' it don't matter that I shot him, since he's gonna be all right. But he coulda just as easily not been all right. Suppose he was dead right now, and I'd killed him. Would it be all right then?"

Michaela sighed, understanding her daughter's dilemma, "Colleen, if you had killed him, then we would have dealt with that. It still wouldn't have been your fault; it would have been an accident," Michaela ran her hand over Colleen's long, blonde hair.

Colleen felt the tears trickle from her eyes, as she turned and buried her head in her mother's shoulder, unable to understand what she was feeling. "I'm sorry," Colleen cried, feeling Michaela's hand against the back of her head. "It all happened so fast… I woke up and I could hear your voice. When I realized there was someone else there, I just panicked." She felt her mother's hands around her shoulders.

"I know," Michaela soothed, holding Colleen tighter against her.

"Can we put the gun out in the barn? I, don't like havin' it there," she sighed, still able to feel the weight of the object in her hands.

"Of course we can," Michaela smiled, "we shouldn't have had it at all," she shook her head, reflecting on her abhorrence of deadly weapons.

"Thanks," Colleen looked up, wiping the tears quickly from her cheeks. "I couldn't bear knowin' I'd taken someone's life. No matter what the circumstances."

Michaela carefully smoothed the girl's fine, blonde hair over her shoulders once again, "You're going to save lives, Colleen. Not end them," she smiled, knowing those same words had been spoken to her many decades earlier.

"Ma," Colleen glanced back towards the corridor. "Jake's all right, ain't he? I mean, I could go talk to him? Say I'm sorry?"

"That's a good idea," Michaela nodded, watching as the girl rose from the bed and disappeared out into the corridor.

Michaela felt an eerie guilt wash over her, remnants of the conversation repeating over in her mind.

_I've never taken a life through violence._

She thought back over patients she'd seen die under her care.

_I've lost patients, but never through a willful act. Never deliberately._

Michaela realized the guilt that had surfaced had nothing to do with her actions as a physician.

_How would I have felt now? If William had terminated the pregnancy. If I'd known I'd been responsible for my own child's death. Sully was right. It would have just been another tragedy to feel guilty about. It would have made me a hypocrite._

She sighed, glancing down at her stomach.

_It won't be forever, Michaela._

**X.O.X**

"Afternoon, Dr Mike," Horace looked up from the counter with a warm smile.

"How are you, Horace?" Michaela studied his cheerful expression, as she rested her hands on the countertop.

"Doin' real well. Myra was so pleased when she heard you were back," Horace trailed off, remembering all the gossip following Michaela's return.

Michaela nodded uncertainly, quickly concentrating on the letter in her right hand. "If you could see that this is sent as soon as possible,"

"Nothin' urgent I hope?" Horace took the envelope, studying the address.

She shook her head, "thank-you," Michaela slipped the coins from her bag, turning back towards the door. "Oh," she glanced back in Horace's direction, "Please tell Myra I'd like her to drop by for a check-up,"

"Will do, Dr Mike," Horace smiled with a fast nod. "Sure glad you're all right, though. Myra was real worried when you took ill," Horace looked away, seeing the confusion on Michaela's face.

"I'm sorry?" she shrugged.

"Little Brian wired back for Matthew, said you'd been taken to hospital." Horace answered, having no way of knowing the nature of the emergency admission.

"I see," Michaela frowned, feeling uneasy at her own lack of memory.

"But don't you worry, Dr Mike, didn't tell no-one. I took an oath," the telegraph operator nodded proudly.

"Thank-you, Horace," Michaela smiled softly, before turning back towards the porch.

As she walked along the porch and back towards the Clinic, Michaela felt the heaviness of guilt once again.

_How much does he know? I feel so… exposed. How much does the town know? No. Horace would never divulge the contents of a telegram._

She heard his final words in her mind.

_He takes his oath more seriously than I did._

The guilt strengthened.

Dropping her head as she continued to walk, Michaela ignored the occasional glances from townspeople.

_I don't know what I feel more guilty about anymore. Permitting myself to end up in this situation, or my actions since. The only difference is, I had control over my own behavior._

_I have to make this right. Somehow._

**X.O.X**

As she watched Jake peacefully sleep for several moments, Michaela turned back into the corridor, not expecting Sully to be right behind her.

"Looks like he's got the right idea," Sully raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," Michaela replied sharply, making her way into the first recovery room.

"Want me to wake ya in a couple a hours?" Sully offered, seeing Michaela take a seat on the edge of the bed.

"An hour will be sufficient. Thank-you," she replied curtly, loathing the special treatment.

Sully remained in the doorway watching as Michaela settled herself onto her left side, adjusting the pillow under her head.

Satisfied when she remained still, he left the door ajar and paced back into the corridor to listen for Jake.

Michaela waited until she heard his footsteps cease, slowly opening her eyes. She knew she was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop the emotionally-charged thoughts racing through her mind.

Casting her mind back over the night before, Michaela knew Jake's actions had unnerved her more than she wished to admit, even to herself.

_He didn't scare me, he, _She pushed away the thought, dropping her eyes closed again, hoping sleep might be easier.

_I'm just so sick of feeling out of control of my own life._

Seeing the blackness behind her closed eyelids, Michaela felt the anxiety rise in her chest, able to feel Jake's hands on her shoulders. Eyes snapping open, she sighed, chiding herself for such overreaction.

_This is ridiculous._

Michaela stood from the bed, knowing she'd make up for it tonight. Arriving out into the hallway, she saw Sully leant against the wall.

"Ya all right?" Sully looked up.

"I couldn't sleep," she shrugged, moving down the corridor to check on Jake once again.

"Ya must be exhausted?" he spoke in disbelief..

"I am. I'm probably too tired," she dismissed, remembering the sleep deprivation she endured during her residency. "But I've survived worse."

Sully held his tongue, knowing when to let the matter drop, "Did ya want me to get ya some lunch from Grace's?" Sully followed her down the stairs.

"That's a good idea," Michaela glanced over at him, "Thank-you,"

"Sure. What about Jake?" Sully followed her into the examination room.

"Just something light would probably be best. Depending on how much alcohol he's had, he may not feel like it," she sighed.

"Right," Sully nodded, heading over to the door.

Michaela looked around the unkempt room, seeing the dust which covered the desk and cupboards.


	95. Chapter 95

**Chapter 95**

Carefully restacking a pile of textbooks on the now dust-free shelf, Michaela stopped when she heard the bell ring.

Opening the door, she wondered why Sully had bothered ringing, surprised when she saw Dorothy before her.

"Afternoon, Michaela," Dorothy smiled, stepping quickly into the room. "Been trying to get over since this morning, was just so busy in the store,"

"Loren must have been in more pain than he appeared," Michaela reflected on his impromptu visit.

"He does too much lifting. I've tried to tell him, but you know what Loren's like," Dorothy rolled her eyes. "He's as stubborn as someone else I know," she smiled gently.

Michaela took Dorothy's observation with a small shrug, turning back to the stack of books in front of her.

"Is Jake doing any better?" Dorothy inquired, leaning against the examination table.

"He's slept most of the day," Michaela answered immediately, not sure where the conversation was headed.

"Michaela, are you all right?" Dorothy shook her head, seeing the disinterest in Michaela's body language.

"I'm just tired, Dorothy." she replied honestly, too exhausted to be defensive.

"Well, why don't you have a nap?" Dorothy moved over to her side, brushing her arm.

Michaela shrugged, "I can't sleep,"

Dorothy nodded, eyes narrowing as she spoke, "Looks like last night shook you up more than you figured,"

Michaela turned, defenses rising, "I'm fine, Dorothy," she looked around the room desperately for an unfinished chore.

"Michaela, it'd be a shock to anyone. No harm in admitting you're a little on edge," Dorothy watched as her friend glanced over the neatly stacked books.

Running her hand wearily through her hair, Michaela ignored Dorothy's words, "Sully's bringing back lunch from Grace's. He should be back any minute."

"Michaela, I'm only sayin' this coz I care about you. After everything you been through, you can't keep bottlin' it all up. No wonder you ain't sleepin'." Dorothy studied Michaela's blank expression, deciding to continue, "That's what your friends are here for. We may not understand all of what you're feelin', but that don't mean we ain't gonna try. And it certainly doesn't mean we don't all want to help," she saw Michaela's eyes glaze lower.

"I just wish I could stop feeling as though every sound is going to be a gunshot," she sighed, still able to hear the ringing in her ears from the night before. "I wish I could stop overreacting," Michaela swallowed, interlocking her hands.

"I felt the same, Michaela. When Marcus was at home; it was as though my chest was gonna explode, I could hardly breathe sometimes. Just waiting - for him to strike me or yell at me. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't; but the fear was always the same. Worse than if he'd just beaten me. The beatings only lasted ten minutes; the fear lasted twenty years."

Michaela turned, seeing the reflective expression on Dorothy's face. "That's what I loathe the most, Dorothy. It only lasted a few days, but I feel as though it's going to torment me for the rest of my life," she sighed. "One way or the other."

"It'll get better, Michaela. I'm sure of it," Dorothy raised her eyebrows hopefully.

Without uttering a word, Michaela crossed the room to her desk, slowly sorting through the assortment of papers. "At least I've stopped deluding myself that things will ever feel normal again."

"It'll take time. And life will just be different," Dorothy smiled, "I had no idea just how much a baby changes your life until I had my first. And it ain't all the sleepless nights and cryin' that everyone talks about. Watching them grow and change; discoverin' the world," she chuckled in remembrance, "life was never normal again, let me tell you,"

"But don't you see, I was quite happy with my life the way it was six months ago! I had my work, the children. I was happy!" Michaela dropped the papers back to the desk as she watched the bustling of townspeople on the street.

"I'm sorry, Michaela." Dorothy frowned, at a loss as to how to comfort her friend. "I just want you to be able to see some good in this. Have something to hang on to."

"There's nothing, Dorothy. I'd considered that Sully and I would marry, that I'd have children. But not like this. It feels as though the rest of my life has been stolen. Even after what happened, I still had that future to hang on to; but not now. Now, I'll never be able to put it behind me."

"What about Sully?" Dorothy continued.

"He's been incredibly supportive under the circumstances," Michaela considered. "It's just me. I want a future with him, but I don't know if it will be the future we planned,"

Dorothy remained silent for several moments, thinking through Michaela's words. "What does Sully expect?"

Michaela turned sharply, unnerved at how quickly Dorothy had uncovered her apprehension. "We haven't really discussed it," Michaela looked away nervously. "Dorothy, I, in Boston, Sully asked if I wanted to marry him," Michaela rephrased quickly, "Well actually, he asked if I wanted _him_ to marry _me_," she saw Dorothy's eyes light up. "Apparently Matthew convinced him it was what I wanted." She saw Dorothy's eager expression, "I declined. It was so unexpected and it wasn't what I wanted. But I find myself questioning that now." Michaela turned back from the window. "How do I know if it's what I want, or if I'm just afraid?"

"Talk to Sully," Dorothy answered without hesitation. "He's a man of his word, Michaela. He wouldn't have proposed if he'd not wanted to. All of us expected him to since the last time you went to Boston, so, it wouldn't be a shock."

"Would it look as though I was just trying to do the right thing?" Michaela asked.

"Is that a bad thing?" Dorothy pressed.

"I am not going to marry him just to appease the conscience of this town!" she baulked.

"No, that's not what I meant, Michaela. I meant do you want to bring this child into the world without a father?" Dorothy saw the discomfort sweep across Michaela's face.

"But marriage is so much more than that," Michaela felt the apprehension renew.

"Michaela, I hardly think Sully would expect," Dorothy stopped when she heard Michaela's raised response.

"So then it's just pity! Don't you see, Dorothy? I don't know if I _can_ marry him. I don't know if I want to be married to any man." Michaela folded her arms across her chest.

Dorothy waited until the room had dropped into silence, "Well, it will take time, but if you love him enough, there's no reason you won't be able to be close to him,"

"But I won't know that until it's too late," Michaela sighed.

Dorothy cleared her throat, choosing her words very carefully, "Not necessarily." Keeping her expression deliberately vague, Dorothy waited until Michaela had processed her words. "It's not talked about openly, but it's no secret that Jake and I have been close. Perhaps being a widow people look the other way. If it's that important to you," Dorothy shrugged, seeing Michaela consider her words.

"Colleen thinks I'm afraid to marry Sully. I've spend most of the week asking myself if it's true." Michaela stifled an exhausted yawn, as she placed her hand on the desk behind her to support her weight.

"Will you come upstairs and lie down, for heaven's sake," Dorothy shook her head quickly as she placed her hand on Michaela's back, directing her towards the corridor.

"But Sully's bringing lunch," Michaela frowned as Dorothy interjected immediately.

"I said lie down, nothing about sleep. And if you manage to nod off, I'll wake you when lunch arrives," Dorothy justified, as she followed Michaela up the stairs.

As they arrived into the first room, Michaela turned in the hallway, "Jake," she sighed.

"Never you mind about him, I'll sit with him," Dorothy remained in the doorway, a stern expression on her face.

"I used to manage sleep deprivation better than this," Michaela shrugged, moving to the side of the bed.

"Michaela," Dorothy corrected with a sharp raise of her brow.

She rolled her eyes as she settled herself on the edge of the bed.

"It's just an adjustment, and it's not forever," Dorothy spoke quietly, waiting until she was convinced Michaela was actually going to attempt to rest.

"Yes it is," Michaela replied, more to herself than to Dorothy.

Dorothy hesitated, seeing the dismal look cross her friend's face. "Michaela, are you plannin' on keepin' this child?" Dorothy was unable to hide her surprise.

Michaela sighed, letting her eyes drop closed, "There aren't any alternatives that would ease my conscience,"

"What about adoption?" Dorothy countered, leaning against the doorway as the conversation continued.

"If my own prejudices are preventing me from loving this child, I can't expect anyone else to feel differently," Michaela sighed, apprehension stirring at the mental image she had of the baby. "I've been through this before, Dorothy. This town doesn't see past skin color,"

"Well, aren't there orphanages especially for Indian children?" Dorothy lowered her gaze.

"No child deserves that kind of life. I spent years treating children in orphanages in Boston. Seeing the filthy, cramped conditions they live in, having to work for food and shelter from as young as three or four years of age. I don't know what I feel towards this child yet, but I couldn't knowingly subject it to a life of suffering. I may not love this child, but I don't hate it either." Michaela caught Dorothy's gaze.

"Something like this, just makes me question the Almighty's plans," Dorothy sighed, not expecting Michaela to answer her so sharply.

"There isn't a plan, Dorothy. Science is cause and effect. God doesn't have a hand in that." Michaela defended sharply.

Dorothy studied the serious expression on Michaela's face, knowing better than to challenge her. "You just rest, Michaela. I'll sit with Jake." Dorothy left the room quietly.

**X.O.X**

Michaela opened her eyes to the bright daylight, glancing around the room, momentarily disoriented.

Sully looked up from the copy of The Gazette he'd been reading, hearing the movement. "Sleep well?" he asked, a small smile on his face.

Drawing a replenishing breath, Michaela nodded, pulling herself into an upright position. "What time is it?"

"Just after three," Sully shrugged.

"Dorothy said she'd wake me," Michaela sighed, getting slowly to her feet.

"I know. I told her not to," he smiled, that irresistible boyish smirk.

"Sully," Michaela grumbled, straightening out her skirt and blouse.

"You can't tell me you weren't exhausted. And I saved lunch for ya," he gestured to the tray with a red and white checkered napkin draped over it.

"Thank-you," Michaela paused as she studied the soft expression on his face.

Arriving to the dresser, she lifted the napkin, glancing down at the salad sandwich and slice of tea cake. "Is Jake still resting?" she looked up, about to turn and check on him.

"He's fine," Sully rose to his feet immediately. "Dorothy's sittin' with him,"

Michaela carried the metal plate back over to the bed, stifling a yawn.

"Ya feelin' better?" Sully sat back down in the chair, as she attempted to delicately commence her lunch.

"Sully," Michaela put the sandwich back down. "I can't eat with you watching me," she smiled nervously.

"Who's watchin' ya? I'll, all right, I'll look out here." He turned the wooden chair ninety degrees towards the window, chuckling under his breath.

"Thank-you," she rolled her eyes, savoring the soft, fresh bread.

"Michaela," Sully cleared his throat, continuing to watch the activity on the main street below. "I ain't been entirely honest with ya. I shoulda been," he paused, about to turn his head.

"About what?" she prompted between mouthfuls.

"Since we got back. Went out to see Cloud Dancin'. He knew, Michaela. I can't explain it. He told me he knew about the baby." Sully waited several moments, eventually turning back to see the blank expression on her face.

"How?" she frowned, brushing some of the crumbs from her fingertips.

"'Said it was the spirits," Sully muttered vaguely, "Snowbird's pregnant too, Michaela," he felt the sentence leave his mouth quickly, not sure how she would respond.

"I see," Michaela replied in a neutral tone.

"I just didn't wanna be keepin' anything from ya," Sully ran his hand against his head, more out of habit, still caught by surprise when he felt the shortness of his hair.

The silence the followed was punctuated only by the sound of trotting horses, or the occasional raised voice from the street below.

Taking a bite into the second half of the sandwich, Michaela reflected on her conversation with Dorothy hours earlier.

"You're right. There's too much we've kept from each other as it is," she continued, picking out a piece of cucumber and nibbling on it thoughtfully.

Sully nodded slowly, both unsure of what the other was thinking.

Clearing his throat, Sully knew he had to inform her of the conversation he'd had with her sister just prior to their returning home. About to speak, he looked up at the sound of his name.

"Sully. I want you to tell me the truth. In Boston, did you ask if I wished to marry you simply because of William?" Michaela looked down at the empty plate, laying the napkin neatly across it.

He paused, considering his response.

"Not directly. When you told me what he said, and I knew you'd considered marryin' him, I thought it might be important to ya; bein' married before the baby came. It weren't the only reason though," Sully thought back over his motives honestly.

"I know. I know what Matthew said," Michaela answered, as if trying to reassure him that he need not protect her son.

"Matthew? What's Matthew got to do with it?" Sully baulked immediately.

"You don't have to keep up this pretense, Sully. Colleen told me everything." Michaela felt her defenses rise.

"Well then someone didn't tell me, because I ain't got a clue what ya talkin' about." He replied honestly, yet with equal abruptness.

"Stop it, Sully!" Michaela rose from the bed, placing the plate back on the tray. "At least be honest with me! I _know _Matthew talked you into proposing. You don't have to protect him." She remained on her feet at the end of the bed.

"Michaela, I ain't about to let anyone _talk _me into proposing to marry someone! I don't know where Colleen got her information from, but it just ain't true. Yes, Matthew wondered if it would be a good idea; but I wouldn't have said what I'd said it if wasn't what I wanted," he stopped quickly, knowing he deliberately didn't wish to phrase it that way.

Michaela's frustrated expression faded, clasping her hands over her stomach as she felt the emotions begin to swirl, "It's not suppose to be this way," she cringed, "I'm supposed to _want_ to marry you, it's supposed to be," she searched for the right word, "spontaneous, exciting," she gazed upwards as her face brightened with memories of David's proposal.

Sully watched sadly as she lowered her eyes.

"I never knew he'd steal so much." Michaela had taken several steps back towards the door when she felt Sully's hand on her right shoulder.

Sully saw the tears in her eyes as she turned around to face him. He knew there were no words to be spoken in that moment; none that would offer any comfort.

Bringing his other hand to her upper arm, Sully drew her to his chest.

"I want my life back," she pleaded desperately, tearing flowing from her eyes, as she felt her arms secure around his back.

"I know," he answered helplessly, in that moment wishing he could give his life to take her pain away.

"It's not fair, Sully. I feel like my entire life has been one huge sacrifice. I gave up so much to pursue my education, It was what I wanted, but with the expectation that it would all one day be worth it. I didn't go courting or get married in my twenties like my sisters did; I wanted to finish studying, to be able to practice and earn the respect of my father's colleagues; from everyone who said I couldn't be a doctor. Then when I finally met David; everything seemed to fall into place, he proposed, and for all of a month, I felt I had the perfect life. Then I lost him. Everything was a struggle again, and then Father died too. I thought coming here would be a fresh start. But even that was more of a challenge than I could have envisaged. But I had a few patients, and slowly I seemed to be gaining the town's acceptance. When Charlotte died and left me the children; I never resented them; but I certainly didn't feel ready to be a mother. It took me over a year to gain the town's respect; but now it's just solemn glances. Everything I had, everything I've worked for, I've lost." She paused, taking a forced breath, "There isn't anything to look forward to anymore,"

Sully ran his fingers through the hair trailing down her back. "I know it's not fair, Michaela. And I know it seems hopeless right now."

"It's not just now Sully, it's the rest of my life!" she pulled away from his embrace. "I can't love this child, I can't even bear to think of it. If I keep it, I'll never have my life back; if I give it up, I'll have to live with the guilt. The shame and anger just makes me wish I'd died, and none of this would be happening." Michaela drew a dejected breath, "I can't help but feel the children would be better off with Olive as a mother anyway. I'm not the mother Charlotte wanted for her children, I've let her down."

Sully remained perfectly still, watching as Michaela gripped her upper arms tightly. "Ya talked about everyone 'cept you, Michaela."

"If it was just about me, we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?" she spoke in a low voice.

Sully frowned, unnerved by the seriousness he saw in her eyes. "You don't mean that,"

"The children were the only thing that kept me alive. And now I feel as if I've failed them too." Letting her arms drop to her side, Michaela kept her gaze lowered, "What's the point any more?"

"You ain't gonna feel this way forever, Michaela. Ya just gotta believe in that," he spoke confidently, reaching forwards to brush her arm.

"And in the meantime? I try to think back to before this happened, to remember what kept me going. It was probably just hope. That I could change things, have an impact on people's lives," she looked up at the sound of his voice.

"Ya still do. Ya saved Hank's life; Jake's too by all accounts. And I wouldn't be standin' here if it weren't for you," he eventually found her gaze.

"Colleen asked me an interesting question the other day. If things had been different, would we be married now?" she looked away, suddenly not sure why she had asked the question.

"Dunno," he drew a breath, trying to ascertain why she had asked that particular question. "Things were goin' all right 'til Catherine came along,"

"I can't believe I made such a big deal of that. I'm sorry I didn't accept your explanation; I just felt so, humiliated." Michaela sighed, thinking about how trivial the incident had been. "To think I was worried about _that_ disgracing me,"

"I know what people think is important to ya, don't always understand why," he tried to answer her original question, "Truth is, I don't know how things would be now. Why does it matter so much?"

"It matters. It's the only way I have of truly knowing my feelings towards you," Michaela felt his hand run over her shoulder.

"Well don't ya know?" Sully shook his head, slightly confused.

"I can't trust my feelings now. How do I distinguish between apprehension and fear?" she shrugged, not sure if Sully would comprehend her meaning.

"Well, change will always bring apprehension; that's normal. What are you afraid of?" he spoke slowly.

"Making the wrong choice. What if I'm not the right person for you?" she chewed lightly on her lower lip.

"I wouldn't have asked ya to marry me if I didn't love you. You gotta ask yaself if I'm the right person for you, Michaela." Sully looked up, hearing a light knock on the door.

Turning quickly, Michaela saw the familiar head of red hair.

"Sorry," Dorothy apologized, "Michaela, Jake's awake. Wants to go home,"

"He must be feeling better," Michaela stood from the bed and followed Dorothy back out into the corridor.

**X.O.X**

"Jake?" she stepped into the room, closing the door over behind her.

"Feelin' fine, Dr Mike. Just wanna go home," he looked up impatiently.

"Let me examine you," she took a seat beside him, checking his pupil dilation and tracking. "Is your foot causing you any discomfort?"

"Just a scratch, ain't it? I need to get back to the shop," Jake looked around the room for his clothes.

"Well, yes, it's a relatively superficial wound, Jake. However, given the circumstances, I need to make sure there's no alcohol left in your system. What day is it, Jake?" Michaela studied the agitated expression on his face.

"Ah, Friday, is the twenty-second of September. I feel fine, Dr Mike. Ain't got so much as a headache." Jake assured.

"Jake, you need to promise me you won't consume any alcohol," she spoke sternly.

"Right." He cleared his throat.

Michaela sighed, Jake's affirmation being received too quickly.

"Jake, what are you going to do the next time you have a nightmare?" she spoke clinically.

Jake shrugged, suddenly being intrigued by the edging on the bedsheet.

"I, ah I'll talk to Loren I guess," he stammered.

"I'll check on you for the next few days. And Jake, I want you to know you can always talk to me if it will help," she kept her eyes fixed on his face until he eventually met her gaze.

"Thanks, Dr Mike. Don't wanna make it harder for you," Jake shook his head.

Michaela nodded slowly. "I'd sooner talk with you than have a repeat of tonight," she raised an eyebrow deliberately.

Jake squinted, the troubling thoughts surfacing. "I, I'm sorry," he looked away quickly.

"How about we call it even and start over?" Michaela suggested with a soft smile.

Jake nodded thoughtfully, the memories resurfacing all too vividly.


	96. Chapter 96

**Chapter 96**

**X.O.X**

**Sunday, 24****th**** September, 1869**

_**Two Days Later – 22 Weeks Gestation**_

**X.O.X**

It was a perfect autumn day; with only the odd wispy cloud in the sky. The sun provided a pleasant warmth, adequate without being hot. The town had gathered in the meadow, for the school sports day. Reverend Johnson was busy trying to organize the children for the third event of the morning; the three-legged race.

Families had spread picnics out around the meadow following church and were finishing lunch as the events commenced.

Dorothy sat beside Jake, pleased that he had agreed to join her for the afternoon. She'd made a special effort with the picnic lunch she'd prepared, and hoped it would elevate Jake's spirits.

"Couldn't be a better day," Dorothy smiled, seeing Jake gaze around the meadow.

"Hmm," Jake muttered, having been in a quiet mood these last few days.

"Brian's chuffed Michaela's here. Just look at him showin' off," Dorothy chuckled, gesturing to the group of boys.

Jake remained silent, merely glancing between Brian and Michaela, unable to shake the guilt from his actions several nights earlier.

"Just wish people'd mind their own business though," Dorothy sighed, remembering the comments that had passed at the Mercantile over the past week. "Least no-one's stirrin' up trouble today."

"It ain't been as bad as I thought it would," Jake responded, keeping his voice low.

"Maybe men just find some things too uncomfortable to talk about. I can tell ya, it sure ain't stopped some of the more opinionated women in this town. Although why opinions and ignorance seem to go hand-in-hand I'll never know,"

"Guess most people'd have more sense than to say anything. 'Specially with Sully around." Jake considered.

"Don't see why it should make a difference. You'd think common decency and Christian compassion'd be enough," Dorothy muttered under her breath.

"We'll see, won't we?" Jake reached for another chicken leg, "Sure is a good lunch, Dorothy," he smiled.

"Wanted us to enjoy the day together, Jake," she beamed, reaching for his left arm.

Horace and Myra sat nearby, also absorbed in the sports day atmosphere.

"Just think, Myra, in a few years, we'll be watchin' our own little one runnin' around, goin' to school," Horace smiled, glancing to his wife.

"Horace, you think we're gonna be good enough parents?" she asked, seeing the various children around, the odd cries from babies and screams from frustrated youngsters.

"Honey, now don't you go thinkin' that. You'll be the best Ma in the world," Horace assured, wrapping his arm around her back.

"Can't help wonderin' about the future. Thinkin' of all the mistakes I made in my life. Wanna make sure our child has the best life," Myra nestled her head against Horace's shoulder, as they prepared to watch the race.

"He and Steven been practisin' each lunchtime," Colleen spoke, as they watched Brian and Steven tie their inside legs together.

"Looks kinda dangerous if you ask me," Sully cringed, as all the children took their place behind the starting line.

"Why do you think I'm sitting here," Colleen giggled.

"Didn't know the Reverend was gonna let girls go in the races," Matthew shrugged, sitting on the other side of the large picnic rug with Ingrid.

"Matthew!" Colleen defended, "Just coz I value my ankles don't mean girls can't race," she rolled her eyes, turning back to the field as the race was about to commence.

Sully watched the expression on Michaela's face remain unchanged throughout the children's banter. He touched her arm lightly, both looking up as the race commenced.

Michaela felt herself jump at the sound of the gun. Biting her lower lip, she searched for Brian and Steven amongst the group.

Sully glanced over at her, knowing she'd been incredibly quiet since they're talk two days earlier. He'd felt her jump at the noise.

"Look at 'em go!" Matthew chuckled, "They're killin' 'em!"

"All that practice sure paid off," Colleen smiled, seeing her younger brother and Steven moving quickly towards the finish line.

"They're fallin' like flies," Sully chuckled.

"That's the way Brian, Go! Go on little brother!" Matthew hollered, unable to deny the familial pride at Brian's impending victory.

"Go Brian!" Colleen and Ingrid cheered simultaneously as the two boys crossed the finish line to hearty applause from the town.

"Thank goodness," Colleen sighed, beaming from ear to ear. "I was not lookin' forward to ridin' home with him if he lost the three-legged race,"

"He sure did well. Deserved to win," Sully acknowledged, trying to maintain the jovial mood, despite Michaela's withdrawn behavior.

Brian and Steven gratefully accepted the blue ribbon from the Reverend, both looking around for their parents.

"Michaela," Sully prodded, noticing Brian looking eagerly for his mother in the crowd.

Following Sully's gaze, Michaela lifted her eyes. She forced a weak smile to her lips, seeing her son's excitement. As the Reverend prepared for the next event, the meadow dissolved into idle chatter once again.

Michaela was more consumed by the standoffish attention she'd received from the townspeople and the discomfort at having to sit for a prolonged period of time on the picnic rug.

"What events you goin' in Colleen?' Sully asked, making an effort to engage the group in conversation.

"Doin' the teaspoon race later on, where ya gotta race with a teaspoon of water, and whichever team collects the most is the winner." Colleen shrugged, knowing each student had to participate in at least one event.

"Sounds good, so what's next?" Sully gestured back to the field.

"Think it's hurdles next. Benjamin is so sure he's gonna win. Hope he falls flat on his face," Colleen smirked momentarily, expecting to be scolded.

Sully turned, also surprised when Michaela hadn't uttered a sound.

"Can I get ya anything?" he offered, touching her arm lightly.

Seeing his hand against her forearm, Michaela looked up from the rug, dismissing his concern.

Matthew and Colleen exchanged helpless expressions, Matthew distracting himself wrapping his arm around Ingrid's back.

_I don't even want to be here, _Michaela heard the thoughts commence, only faintly aware of the conversation around her. She looked down, feeling the baby's movements intensify.

_Why did I agree to come? For Brian. But I feel so out of place. I know they're all talking about me._

"Oh, look!" Colleen chuckled, "Benjamin's doing all these stretches; thinks he's so great," she rolled her eyes.

"He sure has some opinion of himself, don't he," Matthew agreed.

"Look Ma!" Brian scurried back through the crowd, sitting himself down between Sully and Michaela triumphantly. "We won!"

"I saw," she nodded, glancing at the ribbon he'd dropped proudly in her lap.

"At first I was real worried we were gonna get out of step, but then we both started doing the rhyme we made up, and it worked. Before I knew it, the race was over!" Brian beamed, taking back his ribbon and pinning it to his shirt.

"You ain't in this one?" Sully asked, trying to compensate for Michaela's lack of interest.

"Nah. The Reverend said we had to be at least twelve to do the hurdles. Coz they're kinda high and he doesn't want us gettin' hurt." Brian shrugged, "But I'm still gonna be in the relay race and the teaspoon race and, and the sack race; that's at the very end," he informed his family knowingly.

"Sounds real good," Sully patted his back, more concerned with Michaela's withdrawn behavior.

Since their talk two days earlier, Sully was at a loss as to what to say that would be of any help.

"Here Brian, you'll need some energy," Matthew handed the picnic basket across, "Did we leave any fried chicken for Brian?" he glanced around the group teasingly.

"You ate it all?' Brian's face fell, reaching for the basket.

"Hmm, I dunno. You were gone a long time, and Wolf was hungry," Sully shrugged, patting the nearby wolf softly.

"You gave it to Wolf?" Brian's eyes widened, searching through the basket for his favorite meal.

Michaela watched on in silence as Matthew, Colleen and Sully continued to torment Brian, before eventually retrieving the hidden food and giving it to him.

_Why do I feel like this? _She watched apathetically as Brian hunkered into his lunch. _I should be chastising him for eating so quickly. _

She sighed.

_What's the point?_

The chatter of the townspeople dropped away as the Reverend announced the next activity.

"Now, this one is for the older children. I'd like to thank Robert E. for his help with the hurdles. Now, the winner is the first boy to cross the finish line without knocking down any hurdles. Are we all ready, here?" He turned to address the five boys assembled at the starting position.

An over-confident Benjamin Avery grinned back eagerly.

The Reverend cleared his throat, checking that Benjamin, Cal, Lewis, and Gerald were ready. "On your marks," he raised the pistol, "get set. Go!" he fired the gun, watching as the teenage boys broke off into a competitive sprint.

Onlookers quickly broke out into cheers and whistles of encouragement.

Colleen stifled a chuckle as Benjamin knocked over the first hurdle. "Told ya he'd fall flat on his face,"

"Serves him right," Matthew commented, shaking his head as the cocky adolescent continued with the race.

"Lewis is doin' pretty good Colleen," Sully smiled, sneaking a sideways glance at her.

"Hmm, yeah," she nodded, pretending not to have noticed.

"Like you didn't know," Matthew rolled his eyes, slapping his sister's arm playfully.

Brian frowned, noticing the various expressions on his family's faces.

"Don't you want Lewis to win, Ma?" he sidled closer to his mother's side, noticing her disinterested expression.

Michaela was pulled from her thoughts by her son's question, about to respond when she heard the simultaneous gasps from those around her.

"That musta hurt," Sully cringed, having seen Benjamin's failed attempt at the final hurdle.

Matthew chewed on his lower lip, glancing automatically over at his mother, expecting her to keenly dash to the boy's assistance.

Remaining unexpectedly detached from the situation she was witnessing, Michaela tried to see through the small crowd that had now gathered, beginning to pray that she wouldn't hear the two words she dreaded:

"Dr Mike!" The Reverend bellowed, kneeling down to try and comfort Benjamin, who was writhing on the grass, clutching his ankle in agony.

Michaela suddenly felt dozens of pairs of eyes on her, those families sitting nearby all turning towards her in response to the Reverend's call.

Time seemed to stand still.

"Ma?" Colleen shrugged.

Seeing the expectant stares from those around her, Michaela reluctantly pulled herself to her feet, stepping carefully over plates and picnic baskets, until she arrived into the open field, walking briskly across to the Reverend.

Only then did she realize she had the undivided attention of the entire town. Keeping her eyes downcast and her steps even, Michaela set her jaw firm and arrived to the huddle of people around Benjamin Avery.

"Think it's his ankle, Dr Mike," the Reverend gestured, as Michaela forced herself to concentrate fully on the patient before her.

"How precisely did he fall?" she frowned, crouching to her knees as she met eyes with Benjamin for the first time in over six months.

"Got his foot got caught in the hurdle I think," Timothy cleared his throat.

"Can you move your foot, Benjamin?" Michaela asked tentatively. She was unsure as to how accepting of her help he would be, more than aware of the insults and torments he'd directed to her children.

"Don't think," Benjamin answered in a jilted voice, never having expected Dr Mike to come to his assistance in the first place.

Michaela shook her head, realizing the meadow was not the place for a thorough examination. "Reverend, I'll need you to move him to the Clinic,"

"Right," Timothy nodded, turning as Benjamin's parents came rushing over from the crowd.

"Oh sweetheart, are you all right?" Mrs Avery grasped her son's hand.

"Hurt my foot, Ma. Be fine," Benjamin answered, shrugging off his mother's concern.

"Douglas, help me get him over to the Clinic," the Reverend gestured, bending over to help Benjamin to his feet.

"Surely it ain't that bad," Douglas pushed his hands into his pockets assertively.

Although the idle chatter among the crowd had recommenced, the four adults around Benjamin fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"His foot looks twisted, Doug," Marion Avery frowned, stroking her son's arm softly.

"Don't make a fuss, it's just a sprain. You're all right, ain't ya Ben?" Douglas roughly pulled his son to his feet, gripping his shoulder supportively.

Benjamin looked between the Reverend and Dr Mike, "It still hurts, Pa."

"Nonsense. No son of mine is gonna let a little pain bother him." Benjamin's father spoke gruffly, gesturing back towards their wagon, "Be fine once we get you home,"

"Mr Avery, do you really think that's wise?" Michaela had taken two steps towards Benjamin's side, before she realized she'd voiced her thoughts.

"Excuse me?" Douglas Avery cleared his throat, never having expected her to dare challenge him.

"Your son is obviously in a great deal of pain. I'm not convinced his injury is merely superficial." Michaela continued, feeling the anxiety build in her chest.

Douglas Avery's reply was quick and cutting, "Who asked you?"

Michaela processed the snarl of rejection on his face faster than his words.

"Pa, it's all right," Ben interceded, looking to his mother for support.

"Doug, best to be sure, ain't it?" Marion coaxed, touching her husband's arm lightly.

"Makin' a fuss outa nothin'," Douglas Avery growled, giving Michaela a drawn-out glare of contempt, before securing his arm around his son's back and helping him slowly across the meadow towards the clinic.

The Reverend looked between Michaela and Mrs Avery, as if trying to catch up with the events that had just unfolded.

"I need to get my bag," Michaela gestured back to wagons clustered by the edge of the meadow.

"Please don't mind my husband, he doesn't mean it," Marion tried to apologize.

Colleen approached from the crowd.

"Oh, I'm sure he means every word, Mrs Avery. That is, if the accounts my children have be bringing home are accurate," she answered smoothly, grateful for Colleen's distraction.

"I'll bring ya bag to the Clinic, Ma," the young girl waited for a nod of acknowledgement before darting back towards the wagon.

Opting to remain silent throughout the walk back to the Clinic, Michaela arrived onto the porch, just as Douglas Avery was approaching with a hobbling Benjamin.

"Bring him inside," she unlocked the door, gesturing to the examination table before them.

**X.O.X**

Having managed to usher Benjamin's parents outside, Michaela closed the door, turning back to face him.

"Why you doin' this?" Benjamin voiced in disbelief.

Michaela chose to ignore the comment, and approached the side of the examination table to inspect his leg. "Is it all right if I remove your sock?"

He nodded apprehensively, watching as she carefully exposed his foot.

"Can you feel that?" she touched each of his toes in turn, glancing up to Benjamin's face for a response.

"A little. That last one," he shrugged, watching nervously as she continued the examination.

"Dr Mike?" Benjamin swallowed, feeling the guilt creep over him. "Ain't ya mad at me? Why would you wanna help me?"

Pausing, Michaela studied the genuine expression of confusion on the young man's face. "Because you're hurt, Benjamin," she replied haughtily.

Benjamin waited until she'd concluded the examination.

"I'll ask your parents to join us," Michaela turned, about to move towards the door.

"Dr Mike, wait. Please," Benjamin pleaded, awkwardly pulling himself up to rest on his elbows.

Remaining by the end of the bed, Michaela watched as he searched for the right words.

"Sorry about the stuff I said," he shrugged, not able to look at her.

Michaela felt the audible silence in the room.

"I was bein' stupid. Listenin' to my Pa, instead a thinking for myself. Just wanted you to know I'm sorry," he eventually forced himself to snatch a glance in her direction.

"Benjamin, I believe it's Colleen and Brian you owe the apology to. Not me," she corrected, not completely trusting him.

"Well, maybe, but wanted you to know I was sorry, too," he frowned, thinking back over the previous months.

"What changed your mind all of a sudden?" she asked skeptically, crossing the room to find a bowl to prepare the plaster in.

"Been thinkin'. About stuff the Reverend said. Well, you wouldn't a chose to get pregnant, so mustn't a been something you had any say over," he chewed on his lip, "Right?"

Michaela had arrived by the wooden cabinet when she heard the young man's hesitant words. Not sure what response she felt comfortable giving, Michaela decided to let Benjamin continue.

"Wish I could convince my Pa, but he won't listen to no-one. So, I'm real sorry if he says anything," Benjamin looked up as Michaela paced slowly back to the side of the table.

"Benjamin, out of interest, what precisely_ does _your father have to say on the matter?" she asked, almost sarcastically, however with enough seriousness that Benjamin considered a response.

Quickly lowering his head, remembering the less-than-polite insults his father had thrown when his mother wasn't around. "N-nothin'," Benjamin shrugged.

Raising an eyebrow suspiciously, Michaela felt the anger surface at the boy's awkwardness, "Oh, please. After all, you were comfortable enough to torment my ten-year-old son. Don't tell me it's embarrassment that's preventing you from speaking candidly with me?" Michaela rolled her eyes in contempt, busying herself in finding the bag of plaster across the room.

"My-my Pa, he don't reckon you should a let it happen." Benjamin did his best to remove the less savory words from his father's rants.

"I see," Michaela was surprised at the ease with which she could discuss the situation with Benjamin Avery of all people. Perhaps it was because there was nothing left to lose. "Then I wonder who would be resetting your dislocated ankle right now?"

Michaela felt the conversation catch up with her.

_Do I really mean that little to the people in this town? Do they even see me as a person? Or is a Doctor not allowed to be human?_

Benjamin took several moments to work through her question. "I tried to explain it like the Reverend told us. Even asked Pa what choice he'd a expected my Ma to make; he says it ain't the same,"

"Perhaps your father does have a point there," Michaela sighed, "Part of being a doctor, Benjamin, is accepting that the decisions I make, need to be made for the good of my patients, not myself." She saw the confusion spread over his face. "Take today for example. Now, do you really think I felt like running to your assistance?"

"I didn't expect ya to," he agreed.

"Precisely. But I had an obligation to tend to you, whether I wanted to or not. Whether your father wanted me to or not," Michaela explained.

"Because you're a doctor," he confirmed.

"I accepted that obligation a long time ago, Benjamin. But it's not something many people understand," she inspected his ankle and foot in more detail, noticing the misaligned ligaments. "I appreciate your honesty." She gestured back towards the door, "shall I fetch your parents?"

"Guess," Benjamin shrugged, "Dr Mike, is this gonna hurt?" he looked cautiously towards his foot.

Michaela turned back to the young boy she shook her head with a soft smile, "You'll be fine, Benjamin,"

**X.O.X**

"Douglas, calm down," Marion Avery consoled, as her husband began another lap of the porch.

"Don't like this. My son bein' alone in there with her," he crossed his arms tightly.

"For heaven's sake, she's a good doctor," Marion defended, shaking her head at her husband's concern.

"That's what everyone in this town seems to think, ain't it? Still don't sit right. The way everyone's just actin' like nothin' happened. God, the evidence is staring us all in the face! Know this is only a little town, but still, thought we had some standards," he sighed, eventually taking a seat by his wife's side.

"Doug! Keep your voice down," Marion begged, clutching her husband's arm.

"Can't stand it, Marion. Tell me it doesn't make your stomach turn? Lettin' her so much as touch your own child after," he at least dropped his voice, "after she's been with one of those savages,"

"Ssh!" Marion looked around them, satisfied that they were alone.

"I'm tellin' ya. Ain't right," he asserted strongly.

"Doug. It could a happened to anyone," Marion felt them repeating the same conversation they'd had numerous times over the past six months.

"Don't be ridiculous," he commenced in a dismissive, belittling tone.

"You off workin' all day, dog soldiers coulda just as easily kidnapped me. And then how would you feel?" Marion kept her voice dropped to an urgent whisper, not about to give in to her husband's archaic views.

"You? Don't be so stupid," Doug retorted fiercely.

"And what if it was? You'd want me dead right now, I suppose?" she raised an eyebrow, knowing she had a point.

"You're married. Ain't the same thing," he answered immediately.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Marion defended sharply.

"You wouldn't a been traipsing round the countryside when we all knew to stay close to town," he spoke in a finite turn, both turning as they heard the door to the Clinic open.

"How's he doin', Dr Mike?" Marion rushed ahead of her husband, not wanting any awkward moments to ensue.

"He bearing up well, however, I'm afraid his ankle is dislocated. I wanted to speak with you prior to resetting it," Michaela directed her attention to Mrs Avery, although aware of Benjamin's father hovering several feet behind his wife.

"He's gonna be all right, though? Can we see him?" Marion glanced through the ajar door.

"Of course," Michaela nodded, tentatively glancing at Douglas Avery, unsure as to whether he would join them.

Benjamin's mother followed Michaela into the Clinic, rushing immediately to her son's side. "Oh, sweetheart!" She hesitantly inspected his foot.

"Ma, it's fine," Benjamin shrugged, slightly embarrassed at his mother's overprotectiveness, given he was sixteen.

Marion glanced up, seeing her husband sidle into the room, remaining uncomfortably next to the closed door.

Michaela stayed at the end of the examination table, watching silently as the exchange took place between Benjamin and his mother.

"Benjamin, I'll need to reset your ankle." Michaela moved across the room, quickly fetching the chloroform from the shelf. "However, if you'd prefer I can administer some chloroform, so you won't be aware of the discomfort," she arrived back to his side. "It's up to you,"

Benjamin glanced at the bottle in her hand, before hearing a stern voice.

"You'll be fine, son." Douglas strode over to Benjamin's side, placing a hand solidly on the young boy's shoulder.

"It's all right, Dr Mike," Benjamin shrugged, not daring to show weakness in front of his father.

Michaela nodded tentatively, placing the chloroform back on the desk behind her, before walking around to examine the young boy's leg again.

"Mr Avery, would you be able to hold Benjamin's leg, please?" Michaela looked up, suddenly realizing she'd simply assumed his willingness to assist.

Douglas hesitated only a moment, before he nodded and moved around to the other side of the table.

"If you can hold his lower leg securely against the table, like this, until I've reset his ankle." Michaela demonstrated, before moving back to the end of the table.

"Ah, right," Douglas Avery cleared his throat.

Michaela looked back to Benjamin, recognizing in herself the familiar apprehension that came with having to inflict pain on a patient.

"Benjamin, I promise this won't take long," she touched his foot lightly, briefly meeting eyes with the young man,

Benjamin swallowed, breaking the eye contact to glance across the room.

Michaela swiftly brought her hands to his foot and ankle, taking a quick breath before checking that Mr Avery had a secure grasp on his son's leg.

Benjamin's involuntary howl of pain filled the room, accompanied only by sobs from his mother and the sounds of misplaced bones and tendons realigning themselves.

"Just what do you," Douglas Avery lifted his hands from his son's lower leg, unable to withstand the sounds of his son's screams any longer.

"Hold his leg!" Michaela ordered in exasperation, seeing Benjamin's leg move as the tension was lost.

Douglas complied, without so much as processing her words.

"I'm sorry, Benjamin. It won't be much longer," Michaela consoled, taking a replenishing breath and finishing the realignment.

Benjamin's parents exchanged worried glances.

Michaela checked each of his toes in turn, glad of the several moments to catch her breath. She'd always found resetting dislocations physically demanding, however never quite so exhausting.

"Will you look at that, his foot's all pink again," Douglas nodded, surprised at the effectiveness of the procedure.

"Now that the circulation's been restored, we just need to plaster his ankle to protect the torn ligaments and provide support." Michaela looked up towards her patient, seeing Benjamin's face flushed from pain. "How does it feel, Benjamin?"

"Better," he nodded, looking hesitantly down at his foot.

"I'll need you to stay still whilst I prepare a plaster, Benjamin." She paced across the room, filling a basin with water.

**X.O.X**

"Thank-you, Dr Mike," Marion Avery touched Michaela's arm lightly.

"That's quite all right, Mrs Avery. Take him home, and keep his foot elevated for two to three days. After that, just make sure Benjamin keeps his foot elevated whenever he's sitting or sleeping, or if it gives him discomfort. He can return to school in a week, with crutches. I'll remove the plaster in a month, but don't hesitate to come see me if you've any concerns." She watched as Mr Avery helped his son up onto the back of the wagon.

"Right." Marion nodded awkwardly, glancing between her husband and the female physician, before slowly walking to the nearby wagon.

As the wagon moved down the main road, Michaela turned back to the Clinic, stopping at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Ma!" Colleen arrived onto the porch, suspiciously looking into the room through the ajar door.

"Benjamin's parents have taken him home," Michaela understood her daughter's hesitance immediately.

"Oh. Dr Mike, sorry I didn't come to help ya sooner. I, didn't really wanna see him," she shrugged, feeling a little guilty.

"That's all right, Colleen." Michaela retrieved her bag from the desk. "But I think you'll find everything is fine," she closed the Clinic door and placed her arm around her daughter's shoulders.

Both commenced a slow stroll back towards the meadow.


	97. Chapter 97

**Chapter 97**

"Ma, you missed it! I won the sack race!" Brian ran to his mother's side as he saw her approach. He thrust the blue ribbon into her hand.

"Well done, sweetheart!" she ran a hand over his hair, as she sat back down between Matthew and Sully.

Matthew and Sully exchanged a concerned glance.

"Everything go all right?" Sully asked quietly.

"Fine," Michaela nodded, passing the blue ribbon back to Brian. "What did I miss?"

"Half a dozen kids jumpin' 'round in potato sacks, nothin' much." Sully chuckled. "Think there's only one event left," he gestured as the Reverend assembled a small group of children on the grass.

"Ladies and gentlemen. I'd like to thank you all for making this day such a success. The children certainly enjoyed it." The Reverend addressed the families gathered around the meadow, bringing the sports day to a close.

Brian looked down proudly at his ribbons as everyone applauded, including the children.

"Did real well, Brian." Matthew patted his brother on the back.

"Were lucky to have such a good day for it," Sully nodded, watching as Colleen proficiently stacked the plates and leftovers back in the picnic basket.

"Yeah. Thanks Ma," Brian grinned.

"My pleasure." Michaela squeezed his arm. "Brian, could you run back to the Clinic and get me a small bandage?"

"Sure," he shrugged, getting to his feet. "If you'll look after my ribbons?"

"I'll guard them with my life," she assured.

"Huh?" Brian paused, looking doubtful.

"They'll be fine," Michaela rolled her eyes, watching as the little boy scampered across the meadow towards the main street

Sully waited until Brian was out of earshot. "What's up?" he gestured in the direction Brian had just departed from.

"It's nothing. My wrist's just a little sore after resetting Benjamin's ankle. I suspect I took the bandage off prematurely." Michaela dismissed his concern quickly.

"What do you say we head off, everyone else's leavin'," Matthew shrugged.

Everyone got to their feet, dusting grass from their clothes.

"Did ya want me to get somethin' for supper?" Sully offered as Colleen folded up the picnic rug.

"Thank-you, Sully," Michaela accepted quickly, distracted by the Reverend approaching through the crowd.

"Dr Mike, how's young Benjamin?" Timothy enquired keenly.

"I estimate he'll make a full recovery, Reverend. He'll probably miss a week of school." Michaela informed him, watching as Colleen and Matthew took items back towards the wagon.

"Oh, Colleen and Brian'll be glad of that at least," Timothy smiled, quickly realizing he'd put his foot in his mouth.

"So I'm led to believe," she answered quietly, folding her arms as Timothy attempted to recover from his awkward comment.

"Dr Mike, I'm sorry," he cleared his throat, "ah, I," he hesitated, realizing his words had only added to the discomfort of the moment.

Michaela tightened her arms across her chest, aware of the Reverend's hesitance.

"I, mean, it's, it's good you're back," Timothy changed the subject swiftly, now conscious of the fact that he was struggling to avoid noticing her condition.

"Thank-you, Reverend," Michaela dropped her hands back to her side, realizing she couldn't fold her arms without straining her wrist further.

"It's a shame you weren't able to join us for services this morning," Timothy watched as Sully followed Colleen and Matthew back towards the wagon.

Michaela studied the Reverend's genuinely concerned expression, not quite knowing how to respond to his statement.

"Well, maybe next week," Timothy smiled, glancing around thq e thinning crowds of townspeople.

Michaela nodded noncommittally, spotting Brian running back towards her.

"Here ya go, Ma," Brian presented her with several bandages of assorted sizes.

"Thank-you," Michaela swapped him for the blue ribbons, Brian choosing to hang by her side.

Timothy watched the exchange take place, unable to stop a worried expression crossing his face.

"Dr Mike, if there's anything I can do; if you ever want to talk with me privately; I appreciate it must be a very confusing time," Timothy cleared his throat, not sure whether he'd phrased his concern appropriately.

Michaela allowed herself time to consider his words. "When I'm ready to ask forgiveness for my sins, I will be sure to speak with you, Reverend," she muttered succinctly, not giving the statement any deeper thought.

Brian looked around for his siblings, only hearing fragments of the exchange taking place.

The little boy didn't react until he saw the Reverend reach forwards to grasp his mother's arm.

"Dr Mike, that's not what I meant," Timothy sighed, now more determined to convey his concern.

Michaela couldn't help but feel self-conscious, noticing the dozens of townspeople around her.

Timothy paused, dropping his hand from her arm. "Michaela, I didn't wish to make this awkward, only to convey that I'm truly sorry for the way in which things have turned out. I'm glad you found the courage to return home. And if there's anything I can do, you only need ask," he spoke in a low voice, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation.

Brian watched the stilted conversation between the two adults.

Michaela glanced from the sea of faces around her, back to the Reverend, still processing his words. She felt guilty just standing this close to him; unsure as to how much anyone knew of her actions over the past two weeks.

"Thank-you, Reverend," Michaela eventually replied.

Timothy took a step back, directing his attention to Brian instead, "You sure did well today, Brian."

"Me and Steven practiced real hard," Brian responded keenly.

"Well it's good to see it paid off," Timothy patted the young boy's shoulder.

Michaela glanced over her left shoulder, seeing Sully, Matthew and Colleen by the wagon. "We'd best be on our way." She looked towards Brian, reaching for the little boy's hand.

"Have a good day," Timothy smiled as Michaela and Brian made their way across the meadow.

He turned, about to strike up a conversation with a nearby family, when he felt someone touch his shoulder lightly.

"Oh, afternoon Loren," Timothy smiled, pausing when he saw the dismayed expression on the older man's face. "Everything all right?"

"Was wonderin' if I could have a chat to you in private," Loren gestured towards the church behind them.

"Of course," Timothy nodded, leading the way slowly.

Timothy closed the narrow wooden doors, following Loren to a pew near the back of the church.

"Is something bothering you, Loren?" Timothy folded his arms, settling himself into a corner of the hard, wooden bench.

"Wouldn't go so far as to say that. Got a few things on me mind. Wanted to talk 'em over with someone I trusted." The older man rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Well, I'll do my best, Loren." The Reverend cleared his throat, watching as Loren struggled to put his concern into words. "What is it, Loren?" he prompted gently.

"Just, tryin' to make sense outa everything. Ever since Dr Mike come back last week, been feelin' strange about it," Loren trailed off.

"Strange about what?" Timothy leaned forwards, intrigued.

"Aw, you know." Loren shrugged. "Seems like everything's changed."

"It's been a shock to everyone, Loren. I've had more than my fair share of concerned townspeople droppin' by." Timothy admitted, hoping it would put Loren at ease.

"Then I ain't the only one feelin' uncomfortable about it?" he squirmed.

"No," Timothy sighed.

"Least that's somethin'. Was feelin' guilty. Dorothy and all the women can just brush it aside and move on. Seems like they ain't thinkin' it through. But I can't. Makes my stomach turn just remembering'."

Timothy shook his head, "Remembering?"

Loren looked away, his voice lowering, "Day we found her. Never thought a somethin' like this happenin'."

The Reverend sighed, memories filling his mind. "None of us did, Loren. Not even Dr Mike."

"If we'd gone out sooner, kept searchin' that night, then maybe," Loren voiced hoarsely.

"I know." He agreed, hesitantly allowing himself to remember the day in more detail.

"It's a waste a time talkin' to Dorothy. She just wants to move on. But I can't. Can't stop thinkin' about this baby. Ever since Dorothy told me, keep thinkin' about it. Seein' it. Wonderin' what we coulda done different." Loren sighed.

"I don't honestly believe we could have done anything to change this," Timothy looked up, not expecting Loren to interrupt him so forcefully.

"Sure we coulda. Coulda kept searching that night. If we'd a just found her earlier, before, then none a this would be happenin'." Loren shook his head, "All Dorothy can see is Dr Mike bondin' with this child. Keeps focusing' on everythin' bein' all right. Maybe I'm bein' too judgmental, but, what kind of life is the poor thing gonna have? And Dr Mike. She ain't ever gonna be able to forget. Ain't ever gonna be able to move on."

"It's out of our hands, Loren. I've tried speaking with Michaela. She's not ready," the Reverend clasped his hands against his knee, thinking back over Michaela's previous words. "She still blames herself."

"Aw, just wish there were somethin' we could do. Ain't her fault. I'd blame us. I'd blame Sully before I'd blame Dr Mike," Loren muttered.

"There's only one person to blame for all of this, Loren." Timothy reflected in a quiet tone.

Loren scoffed, "Don't even know which one of them it was. All I know is, we killed 'em all."

"Indeed," Timothy trailed off, remembering the weight of the rifle in his hands. He could hear the gunshot resonate around him. He knew he'd taken a life. "Sorry Loren, I'm probably not providing you with much solace."

"Weren't expectin' any." Loren rose slowly to his feet.

"At least Michaela has done the right thing eventually, seeing the pregnancy through." Timothy followed Loren towards the door of the church, unaware of the significant information he'd just imparted.

Loren frowned, "But what's gonna happen to the kid? It's just gonna end up in one of those orphanages. What a waste."

"We'll see." Timothy opened the door, both of them watching the dozens of children still playing in the meadow.

"That's what worries me. Everyone'll _see_," Loren tsked lightly.

Timothy reflected on his late night conversation with Olive several weeks ago. "I wished there'd been some way to spare everyone such pain."

"Well, ain't there ways around it? Dr Mike didn't have to go through with this did she?" Loren stuffed his hands into his pockets, fighting his discomfort with the entire conversation.

"It's a sin, Loren. Not to mention dangerous and illegal," Timothy took a step back into the church, casting his gaze down towards the floor as he walked.

"And you're tellin' me this kid existing at all ain't a bigger one? Ain't God meant to stop things like this happenin'?" Loren shrugged, thinking back over the day of the auction nearly four months ago.

"Who are we to question His plans?" Timothy arrived by the lectern, reaching slowly for the gold-leaved bible.

"I, ah, wouldn't say anything like that to Dr Mike if I were you," Loren warned, clearing his throat.

"We don't know what the Almighty foresees. Perhaps some good is meant to come of this," the Reverend sighed, idly skimming through pages.

"Keep readin'," Loren tapped the edge of the book lightly, before wearily making his way to the back of the church.

Timothy slowly looked up from the book in his right hand, watching as the older man left the church without another word.

Glancing back down to the fine print, Timothy read the passage quietly to himself:

_  
Romans 8:18 I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.  
_

**X.O.X**

Sully sat on the edge of the porch steps, watching Matthew and Brian throwing a baseball. He turned, a smiling spreading on his face as he heard the door open behind him.

"So how'd today go? With the Avery kid?" Sully watched the children playing.

Michaela clasped her hands in her lap, considering his question. "All right," she nodded.

"And?" Sully coaxed.

Michaela sighed, "It went better than I expected. I suppose I can be grateful for that."

Sully studied Michaela's vacant expression. "What ya thinkin'?"

"That I don't know what the point is anymore," she shook her head with a long, depressed sigh.

Sully nodded slowly. "You'll get through this, ya know. Even if it doesn't feel like it right now. Trust me," he smiled, extending an arm around her shoulders.

With a defeated sigh, Michaela nestled against his side. "There are so many unknowns. I can't see this ever being over."

"It'll all work out. In a few years time, you'll look back on all this and it won't seem as daunting." Sully carefully smoothed the long strands of hair over her right shoulder.

"What's going to happen, Sully? I can't see beyond the next few months, let alone years. And to think this could all be over." She folded her arms tightly, lowering her eyes.

"Michaela, you're gonna get through this. I promise," Sully spoke calmly, knowing he'd said the wrong thing when he felt her pull away from his grasp.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Sully." She sighed, rising to her feet and turning back towards the front door of the homestead.

"Michaela," he frowned, barely having time to interpret her words before he heard the door close firmly behind her.

"Dr Mike?" Colleen looked up from the array of ingredients in front of her.

Shrugging away her daughter's concern, Michaela dropped to the edge of the bed, curling up on her side with a pillow under her head.

_What's the point?_

The unanswerable questions began swirling once again in her mind.

_There's no way out of this. _

Michaela felt her eyelids fall closed, reflecting on the events of the day.

_If I could just open my eyes and it would have been a dream._

**X.O.X**

Brian jogged quickly into the woods, having seen Sully leave the homestead several minutes earlier.

"Sully?" the little boy called, jumping over a fallen log, catching sight of Wolf.

"Sully?" Brian repeated, finally seeing him by some bushes.

Running over, Brian stopped quickly when he realized what Sully was doing, "Sorry," the young boy blushed, turning away.

"Just be a minute, Brian," Sully chuckled, seeing the boy's embarrassment.

Brian nodded, turning back slightly, accidentally seeing more than he had meant to.

"How-How come ya came over here? Ya coulda just used the outhouse," Brian stuttered, trying to distract himself from a nagging concern.

"Always feel cramped in there, ain't natural," Sully finished and buttoned up his buckskins.

"Guess," Brian chewed on his lower lip, not looking up again until he heard Sully walk towards him.

"Supper ready?" Sully shrugged, wondering why the little boy was here.

"Don't think so. Matthew had chores to do, so I came to see if you'd play checkers with me." Brian patted the Wolf several times.

"Sure, if ya want." Sully followed Brian back through the woods.

After several steps, Brian stopped suddenly, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"What's up, Brian?" Sully placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"N-nothin'" Brian answered immediately.

"Ya look worried," Sully countered.

"Nah," Brian defended.

Sully waited, knowing when the little boy had something on his mind.

"Thing is, Ma said I could talk to her about, well, stuff. But I'd feel too embarrassed." Brian squirmed, eventually sitting on a nearby log.

"I see. Would it be easier to talk to me ya think?" Sully offered, suspecting he knew exactly what Brian wanted to discuss.

"Yeah. Coz you're a man. And ain't Ma gonna know about men-stuff, is she?" Brian looked over hesitantly.

"Depends on what exactly you wanted to know. I do know quite a lot about men-stuff though, Brian," Sully raised an eyebrow.

"Sully, you're gonna think this is silly," Brian cringed, fidgeting with his thumbs in his lap.

"Try me," Sully answered. "Promise I won't laugh, no matter what," he smiled reassuringly.

"Well, how, how come, you're bigger than me?" Brian cringed, looking immediately away.

"How come I'm what?" Sully stopped abruptly, realizing in a heartbeat exactly what Brian meant.

Brian sighed, wishing he could dissolve into thin air. He focused instead on the dried leaves he was pushing around with his right foot.

"Don't you worry, you'll get bigger when you get a bit older." Sully reassured the little boy quickly.

"You sure?" Brian looked up hesitantly. "All the other boys are bigger than me. Even Stephen, and he's only just turned ten."

"Not everyone is the same, Brian. When you get a little bit older, things'll start to change. Your voice will get lower, like mine and Matthew's, and you'll start growing hair down there, and under your arms." Sully nodded seriously, realizing there were other changes that Brian may or may not be aware of.

"When? How old will I be?" the little boy asked keenly.

"It's different for everyone. But anytime from now until you're twelve or thirteen. It'll happen gradually. Happens to everyone, ain't something ya gotta be worried about. But you can talk to me anytime, you know that?" Sully patted Brian's back.

"I guess you're the closest thing I got to a Pa." Brian nodded, feeling more comfortable about the discussion.

"Is there anything else you wanted to know?" Sully offered.

Brian shrugged, "How come, it changes sometimes. Like sometimes it'll get smaller, and sometimes it'll get bigger."

Sully tapped his hand against his knee, knowing it was obviously time for Brian to have an important talk with someone. He just wasn't so sure that someone should be him. But who else was there?

"Brian, now remember we talked about where babies come from, but I probably didn't explain it to you properly. Ya see," Sully cleared his throat, trying to find the best way of explaining the details. "When boys and girls get older their bodies start changin'. Women get breasts and they get their monthlies, and," Sully hoped Brian would simply accept his explanation.

"Is that the thing Colleen is always complaining about? It makes her stomach sore, and she's in a real bad mood," Brian frowned, having heard the term before, but having no idea what it meant.

"I suppose so. It's a bit complicated, and ya Ma would definitely know more about it than me." Sully tried to think of how he was going to continue.

"Well how come men don't get 'em?" Brian shrugged.

"Because men and women are different. Ya know what I mean?" Sully kept his gaze calm and understanding.

"Like men have penises, and women don't. But then they have those sacs where the baby grows. That's why the woman has the baby not the man." Brian tried to assimilate the wealth of information he'd obtained over the past five months.

"Exactly. But what if ya ask ya Ma about the female stuff, and I'll cover the rest?" Sully offered.

"All right. Ma just uses lots of big words, and makes it sound all medical. I still don't got no idea how it actually works. Who has the baby first? If the man gives the baby to the woman, then where is the baby before it's in the Ma?" the little boy cringed, becoming more confused as he thought about it all.

"Right, well no-one has the baby to start with. The baby is created inside the woman. When a woman gets her monthly, it means that her body has eggs that are inside her. But the eggs don't become a baby until the seed from the man meets it."

"Where does the seed come from?" Brian blinked several times, trying consciously to follow the information.

"From the man." Sully paused, trying to think through an explanation that would be plausible to Brian given the current circumstances. "When boys start growin' up, their penis changes. And like you said, Brian, sometimes it gets bigger. Now, when a man is with a woman, it makes him feel real good, and, ah," Sully cleared his throat, realizing how awkward the conversation was becoming.

"And it makes it go big and hard?" Brian nodded in understanding.

"Right." Sully drew a breath, forcing himself to reflect on his time with Abigail. "Now, women don't have penises, but they have a hole, where the man's penis goes into. And when a man is with a woman like that, his penis goes into the woman and white stuff comes out. That's how the man puts the seed into the woman. Then the seed travels into the sac that the woman has, and if there is an egg waiting there, the seed and the egg come together and that's when a baby is made," Sully sighed, shaking his head several times, knowing that it wasn't Abigail's face he had seen throughout that entire explanation.

Sully realized Brian hadn't uttered a sound.

He turned to the young boy, "Make sense?"

"Guess," Brian frowned, his face a mixture of guilt and worry. "Sully?" Brian chewed on his lower lip, "That's what the dog soldier did to Ma, ain't it?"

Sully nodded, slowly reaching an arm around Brian's back. "It ain't supposed to happen like that, Brian. It's usually something that a man and a woman do when they're married; when they love each other very much. You understand?"

"Why would a man do that to a woman if she didn't want to?" Brian nestled against Sully's shoulder.

"Because some people are selfish, Brian. They think only of themselves, of what they want. They don't think about the other person's feelings." Sully ran his hand along Brian's arm.

"Sully?" Brian drew a new breath.

"Yup?" Sully met his eyes.

"I hope you and Ma get married. Because you'd never hurt her and you'd love her and then if she had a baby with you, she'd love it." Brian looked back towards the homestead.

"Don't you worry, Brian. Everything will be all right." Sully squeezed the little boy's shoulder. "Now, I don't know if ya Ma and me will get married or not, but I'll always be here for you kids. I'll always be your Pa. And you can talk to me about anythin', all right?"

"Thanks, Sully." Brian smiled, as they both got to their feet. "Sully?"

"Yup?" Sully chuckled lightly at the little boy's persistence.

"Do ya think it's harder for Ma to love me and Matthew coz we're boys?" The pair began a slow walk back through the woods.

"Brian, ya Ma loves all three of you children the same." Sully reassured quickly.

"So it won't matter if she has a boy, then?" he continued.

"It shouldn't. But I imagine ya Ma'd prefer if the baby was a girl. Because it will be more like her, ya know?" Sully answered.

"But will it look Indian? Like baby Mike?" Brian picked up a stick and started trailing out a path in the dirt as they walked.

"I don't know, Brian. We won't know until the baby is born." Sully replied honestly.

"What if the baby looks like the dog soldier? Will Ma give it away?" Brian walked the path he was slowly trailing out.

"Why don't we wait and see? Maybe by the time the baby is born, ya Ma'll love the baby more than she does now." Sully considered.

"Is there anything we can do to help Ma love the baby?" Brian asked as they cleared the woods.

"I don't think so, Brian. Think it's something she needs to work through on her own. But if we love the baby now, maybe it'll help?" Sully offered.

Brian stopped as they approached the homestead. "Thanks, Sully. It makes more sense. At first I couldn't understand why Ma didn't know about the baby, but I do now. And I understand why it makes her upset."

"You can ask me anything, Brian." Sully patted the boy on the back, "Race ya home?" he grinned.

"Sure!" Brian launched into an excited sprint, both of them pounding along the dirt towards the homestead in the distance.

"I think Wolf's gonna beat both of us!" Sully laughed, seeing the animal pass them at double the speed.

"I'm still gonna beat _you_!" Brian giggled, arriving proudly to the steps leading onto the porch. "I won! I won!" he jeered excitedly.

Colleen emerged quickly from the homestead. "Brian, hush!" she whispered harshly, placing her finger to her lips.

"Sorry," he shrugged, lowering his voice as Sully arrived onto the porch behind him.

"Supper's almost ready, go wash up," Colleen instructed, disappearing back inside.

Sully sat on the top step of the porch, catching his breath. Wolf padded over, flopping down by his side. He couldn't help but reflect on the conversation he'd just had with Brian.

_I hope I've done the right thing. Maybe it wasn't my place, but someone had to tell him the truth._

Gazing out across the setting sun, Sully thought back to when he was Brian's age.

_No-one was there to tell me. Every boy needs a Pa; a man they can trust, they can talk to._

He turned his head, seeing Matthew emerge from the barn.

_Matthew never had anyone._

"Hey, Sully," the young man nodded, brushing the dirt from his hands.

"Matthew, how's it going?" Sully dismissed the thoughts as he arrived to his feet.

"Yeah, not bad. Always lots to do 'round here, ya know." Matthew looked back towards the barn.

"Yeah. You and Ingrid set a date for the weddin'?" Sully asked.

"Nah. She understands I gotta stay 'round here for awhile now. Maybe next year, after the baby's born." Matthew shrugged.

"How do you feel about that?" Sully frowned.

"How do I _feel_?" Matthew heard the automatic sarcasm in his voice. "Ain't about how I feel, it's about what's right for my family."

"Must be hard on Ingrid, having to wait." Sully continued.

"She understands. Feels bad for Dr Mike." Matthew nodded.

"Matthew, was thinkin'. Well, if I helped with the animals here, and I could help ya finish your homestead, ain't no reason you and Ingrid couldn't be married before Christmas."

"Sully, that's real nice of ya, but ain't right. It's real tough for Colleen and Brian, too. I wouldn't want to leave them." Matthew leaned against the post which supported the porch.

"I guess, but, well, wanted ya to know, if me and ya Ma do get married before the baby's born, ain't no reason you and Ingrid gotta put off the weddin' either. Dr Mike'd want you both to be happy," Sully smiled as Brian raced back from washing his hands and face for supper.

"Ya think Dr Mike's ready for that?" Matthew crossed his arms.

"We've talked about it. I think it'd make some things easier for her. Don't wanna pressure her though," Sully looked down as Brian quietly observed the conversation taking place.

"Well, good luck," Matthew nodded, "c'mon Brian, let's go hassle Colleen, I'm starvin'!" he teased, following his little brother towards the front door.

"C'mon boy," Sully tapped his hand against his thigh, Wolf jumping to his feet and following them all inside.


	98. Chapter 98

**Chapter 98**

_Michaela ran towards the edge of the cliff, stumbling in an attempt to halt her speed as she noticed the sharp drop to the rocks below. Turning back towards Sully, he too, began looking desperately for an alternate path from the pack of dog soldiers, the pair quickly making their way up the rocks in front of them. They continued to dodge bullets and rocks, unable to find an escape, as the dog soldiers' war cries closed in on them, fast. Michaela turned, noticing One Eye behind them, tomahawk gripped securely in his right hand._

"_Sully!" she screamed, and grasped his arm. As he turned around, he narrowly missed the sharp blade as it flew past, only several inches from his head. Michaela felt her breath catch in her throat, as she took several steps away from Sully, watching the renegade approach him, and drew a knife from his right side. Sully hesitated, trying to gauge the dog soldier's movements, his eyes darting frantically between the anticipated struggle and Michaela, who remained several feet to his left. One Eye lunged towards him, and managed to throw a punch to the right side of his face. The force of the blow threw Sully off-balance, and the men arrived on the rough cliff edge, locked in primitive struggle._

_Michaela felt her jaw drop, and a silent gasp of horror escaped her lips, as she witnessed the vicious brawl which ensured. Sully and One Eye continued to struggle, until they arrived dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, still wrestling with each other in unwavering determination; both knew what was at stake._

_The several seconds that followed felt like an eternity, as Michaela continued to watch the deadly scuffle; occasional grunts of protest and effort emitted by the fighters._

_Struggling to keep track of the identity of each of the individuals locked in battled, Michaela could only watch in terror as Sully was pushed further and further towards the edge of the cliff. _

_The movement which followed was so quick, she could barely comprehend it, as Sully managed to throw One Eye's body from the edge of the cliff._

_For what felt like minutes, time stood still. No-one moved; there was no sound._

_Suddenly, Michaela heard the familiar noise of gunfire return._

_As Sully got to his feet, she felt the adrenalin renew._

_They both stared down helplessly at the water below._

_Turning to Sully, she knew what he was thinking._

_It was their only chance._

"_I can swim," she stammered, both aware of the increasing frequency of the gunshots._

_Struggling to unfasten her skirt, Michaela kept her gaze fixed on Sully's face._

_We can do this. We've come this far, we can't fail now._

_Without uttering a word, both moved back away from the cliff edge; knowing they'd need a decent run-up to clear the jagged cliff face, if they had any hope of reaching the water below._

_Feeling her breath rise in her throat, Michaela paused when she felt Sully's hand on her arm._

"_I love you," he stated, in an unemotional tone._

_Snatching a desperate breath, she forced herself to meet his eyes._

"_I love you," she heard the simple words slip from her mouth._

_Each knew what they were really saying; that if they didn't survive the jump, they knew they would be together._

_Distracted by a bullet which barely missed them, they locked hands, moving quickly towards the edge of the cliff._

_Turning to Sully as she jumped, Michaela refused to look at the water, hundreds of feet below. She kept her eyes locked with Sully's until she could no longer see him._

_Within seconds, the painful impact of the freezing water below had hit her._

_Gasping for breath, Michaela felt herself struggle to the surface, searching desperately for Sully's face through the murky water._

_Just as she saw him beside her, both heard the bullets which pierced the water either side of them._

_There was nothing they could do but swim, and hope to avoid the gunfire raining down upon them from above._

_Drenched, Michaela managed to pull herself to the shore, both running for shelter in the nearby scrub to avoid the showering bullets._

"_Are you all right?" Sully asked, still catching his breath._

"_Yes," she answered, equally exhausted and frightened._

"_Come on. Wolff will lead us to Bear," Sully helped her through the dense bush, checking that the dog soldiers were not following them._

_Reluctantly, feeling the burning pain radiate through her feet, Michaela struggled on._

_After traveling for nearly a mile in near-silence, Sully saw Michaela stumble out of the corner of his eye._

"_Michaela?" he called, arriving to her side just as she dropped to the ground._

"_I can't go any further," she protested, tears streaming down her cheeks._

_Crouching beside her, Sully nodded, not hesitating before scooping her up into his arms._

"_We're nearly there. Won't be long and we'll have you back with the children." He consoled, looking up with relief as Wolf began barking excitedly._

"_Bear's not far away," Sully kept moving as fast as he could, looking down to see Michaela beginning to doze in his arms._

"_Michaela," he waited until she stirred before putting her down and untying Bear._

"_Only a couple a hours and we'll be back in town." Sully carefully helped Michaela up onto the horse._

"_Brian, birthday," she muttered, relief combining with utter exhaustion resulting in her inability to stay awake._

"_I know. Don't worry, we're gonna be back with 'em real soon," he smiled, mounting the horse and commencing into a gallop._

"Dr Mike?" Colleen gently brushed her arm, to rouse her from sleep.

Wearily, Michaela opened her eyes, her thoughts still occupied with fragments of dream.

"Supper's ready," Colleen smiled, turning back to the table with a light chuckle.

As she sat up, Michaela glanced through the front window. She could see the sun setting, as vivid images still danced in her mind. It wasn't until she heard her daughter's laugh, that Michaela turned her head.

"Colleen?" she walked over as the young girl finished setting the table.

"Was just thinkin' how I can never wake ya callin' you Ma. It _has_ to be 'Dr Mike'." Colleen shook her head with an amused smile.

Michaela considered Colleen's observation for a moment, although distracted by the lingering emotions from moments earlier. As she neatened out both her skirt and the bedclothes, Michaela realized the dream wasn't a memory.

Looking up as the front door opened, Brian walked slowly into the homestead, expecting his mother to have still been asleep.

"Need me to do anythin' Colleen?" he asked quickly.

"Nah, ya came at the right time; when all the work is done," she muttered, half playfully.

"Sorry. Sully and I were in the woods," Brian shrugged, sliding into a wooden chair.

"Are he and Matthew comin'?" Colleen placed a bowl of potatoes on the table, before taking a seat opposite her brother.

"Yeah, they're just talkin'," Brian licked his lips, spying the melted butter on top of the potatoes eagerly.

"Dinner looks magnificent, Colleen," Michaela smiled weakly as she took a seat at the end of the table.

"Thanks," Colleen hesitated, unsure whether to call Sully and Matthew again. "Guess they won't be long."

Brian looked from the empty plate before him, across to his sister, still thinking over his recent conversation with Sully.

Tentatively, the little boy took a glance in his mother's direction, chewing on his lower lip as he thought.

Something felt strange.

Brian squirmed slightly in his chair, looking deliberately back towards the food in the centre of the table.

Suddenly, he didn't feel all that hungry anymore.

**X.O.X**

"Startin' to get colder," Sully sat down on the edge of the porch step, desperate to make some conversation.

Barely acknowledging his utterance, Michaela kept her gaze fixed out over the surroundings.

"You feelin' all right?" Sully edged closer to Michaela's side.

She nodded with a disinterested shrug.

"Seemed awful quiet over supper is all," he spoke in a neutral tone.

Michaela frowned, struggling to put her thoughts into words. "Sully, I don't know where to go from here. What to look forward to, hope for. I've never felt like this before. It feels as though there's no point to anything."

Sully nodded, reflecting on her words for several moments. "It'll get better."

"How?" she replied sharply.

"Just takin' each day at a time." He studied the disheartened expression on her face.

Michaela shrugged. "Until this baby is born. And then what? I don't know what is worse. Having the constant reminder growing inside me every moment of every day. The constant uncertainty of what this child will be. Perhaps this is actually the easy part, because it's unknown. Once this child is born, there's no going back. I will have been responsible for bringing a human being into this world, to face the prejudices and rejection that even I can't see a way through. If this child will never know love and acceptance, what point is there to its existence?"

"Michaela, you can't know what's gonna happen in the future. And even if you can't keep this baby, 'least it'll be alive."

"But for what, Sully? To be ostracized and deemed an outcast from the moment it is born? What kind of life is that?" Michaela clutched her hands together around her knees.

"I know what you're afraid of; but there's a chance the baby will be white." Sully countered gently.

"There is also an equal chance that's Charlotte's children are going to look more like me than my own. And I hate myself even more for feeling differently towards this child based on race." She drew a resigned breath.

"Ain't necessarily gonna be like that. You're thinkin' the worst, Michaela."

"The worst is a distinct possibility, Sully." She watched for several moments as Wolf chewed on a stick in front of them.

"Sully, be honest. We both know all too well what happens to these children. They're not accepted into either culture and grow up knowing nothing but rejection," Michaela paused. "I can't stand the thought that I'm merely perpetuating the cycle of hatred and cruelty. What kind of person will this child become?"

"But you have a chance to change all that. This child could grow up knowin' love and hope. That's the most you can give any child."

"I don't even know if I can love this child. If the very sight of it won't repulse me. And it's worse knowing that it's my _own child_. I could love Mike because I didn't know his background. He wasn't mine. Even if his creation had been the same as this child, I could have still loved him, because it wasn't me. I can't rationalize it, I can't justify it, it's just how it feels. Which makes me think someone else could love this child more."

"If that's what you want, I understand. Just give it time. There's nothin' you can do until the baby is born," Sully kept his voice calm.

Michaela felt her frustration renew at the reality Sully presented. There was absolutely nothing she could do.

"I just wish I'd considered it sooner. If there had been some way to avoid it." Michaela paused, "Do you think I'm the only one, Sully? Are there other women out there who have gone through this?"

"I guess so. Dunno how you'd find out about them though." Sully answered suspiciously.

"I suppose, deep down, I believed nothing like this could happen to me, that I wouldn't permit it. I never considered that it would be beyond my control. I never expected to feel like this. It's not something you ever think will happen to you, but still, I guess every woman considers it. I never understood the shame women felt, because it was so obviously not their own. I don't feel shame anymore, I thought I would. I think more than anything, I feel humiliated; trapped. I have no way of knowing what things would be like if I wasn't pregnant. Would I feel normal again? Will I ever?" Michaela looked over at him, as if expecting a completely frank and scientific reply.

"Don't think there is such a thing. We're always goin' through new experiences. Always changin' in small ways. Some things just change us quicker, I guess. But that change don't gotta be a bad thing," he speculated with a slight frown, suspecting Michaela wasn't after a rational answer.

"Are you trying to imply I should be glad that this happened?" Michaela felt her defenses rise.

"'Course not, but maybe it'd help to see the good that came out of it? Seein' the good people in this town, seein' how much those children love you? Even ya own family. Bet you never thought Rebecca'd be as understanding as she was." Sully tried to focus on the positive events of the last six months.

Michaela sighed, "I know what you're trying to do, Sully. Maybe I want to be miserable for awhile longer."

"Suit yaself," Sully glanced over with a mischievous smile.

"I just wish I could go back and change that day. That I'd listened to you and Matthew. Then none of this would have happened. If I hadn't been so blind to the dangers. As usual, I thought I knew best." Michaela grasped her upper arm with her hand, the feelings of frustration intensifying.

"And I wouldn't change that about ya, Michaela." Sully shrugged.

"But look at what happened!" Michaela felt her voice rise. "If I hadn't of been so over-confident and sure of myself, why anyone else, Dorothy or Grace, would have admitted their vulnerability and stayed in town. But no, not me. I had to believe I was invincible didn't I? And what I still can't believe, is how long it took before I realized I wasn't! I think right up until the moment it happened, I believed I could stop it. Why do I think I'm different? Why should I be any the less vulnerable than any other woman?" Michaela sighed, gazing into the familiar night sky.

"I don't reckon anyone should be vulnerable. It ain't somethin' that's wrong with you, or women. You're puttin' all the blame on yourself and it ain't right." Sully countered.

"I know Sully," Michaela sighed, feeling as though they were going in circles. "But we don't live in a perfect world." she deflected her gaze, remembering fragments of the dream she'd had. "In a perfect world, you would have thrown him off the cliff; we would have jumped into the river below; and swum to safety. We would have been home for Brian's birthday, and sat around eating birthday cake and playing party games." Michaela focused her gaze out into the distance.

"Life ain't meant to be perfect; that's a fairytale. If everything went the way we planned, we'd never need to reflect on life; on ourselves. We'd never grow. In time, maybe you'll see that something positive can come out of all this." He spoke carefully, appreciating Michaela might have preferred a less painful lesson.

Sully regretted his choice of words the moment he heard her get to her feet and move towards the door. _Enough was enough._

"Michaela, wait!" he managed to reach her before she opened the front door.

"I'm sorry, I know you ain't ready to believe that." He touched her left shoulder lightly.

"If someone had suggested that something positive was going to come out of your wife and child dying, would you have believed them?" Michaela didn't care if her response was overly abrasive.

"No," Sully answered immediately. "But the point is, somethin' did. I met you," Sully searched her eyes for any sign that she'd heard his reply.

"I never thought I'd get over losing David. It was only through working with my father; seeing the good I was able to do, that gave me hope. But when Father died, all that was in jeopardy. I knew he wouldn't have wanted me to give up, but I also knew I couldn't stay in Boston. So I decided to come here. I didn't feel I really belonged until after Charlotte left me the children. Suddenly, I couldn't just look for an excuse to go home. I was a part of their lives and they needed me." Michaela moved across the porch and down the steps towards the main path that led away from the homestead.

"Your Father wouldn't want you to give up now, Michaela." Sully followed slowly behind her, watching as she gazed into the night sky.

Michaela thought back over the dreams she'd had these last few months.

"I know," she paused, "I don't want to feel this way, anymore. But every day just feels more hopeless. How do I make this numbness go away? It's as though nothing has any purpose anymore. I should have enjoyed seeing the children in the sports day today, I would have before. Now, all that worries me are the horrible things that are going to happen to them in their lives. And that I can't protect them. All I see is the disappointment; the pain." Michaela looked down, gingerly moving a hand to the side of her stomach. "Since I was little, I was so looking forward to having children; and each baby I delivered, made me long for it even more." Michaela frowned, "I just feel so cheated; something I was really looking forward to, I can't enjoy."

"You can't enjoy it, or you don't feel entitled to enjoy it?" Sully speculated cautiously.

"Both!" Michaela snapped, dropping her eyes closed with a sigh of regret. "I can't stand the memories. It's all I see, hear, feel. I can't predict what will remind me. Now, I feel as though I see it in everything. If Lewis touches Colleen, or Matthew kisses Ingrid. Do you have any idea what it's like, Sully? I can deny it rationally, but not emotionally. I know Matthew would never hurt Ingrid, but I still feel suffocated with fear. And nothing makes that go away. I can't sleep, I can't think. I feel trapped in my own body."

"Michaela, what can I do to help you?" Sully spoke in a soft tone.

"I don't know. I just wish I could fall asleep and never wake up," her voice was thin and empty.

"Ya tellin' me ya wanna die?" Sully asked in a neutral tone, slightly unnerved by the cold expression on her face.

"I don't want to live like this any longer, and there is no other alternative. I give up. I can't do it any more! And I honestly don't know if it would be any easier without the baby. Guilt is the only thing keeping me alive. At least _I_ have control over _now._ This child hasn't had any control whatsoever. My responsibility to this child is the only thing that makes sense. It's the only thing stopping me from," she shook her head quickly, casting her mind back over the events in Boston.

"Sully, when they abducted me, I was so sure I was going to be killed. And it terrified me. I saw so many things ahead of me that I was scared of losing; marrying you, seeing the children grow up, having children of my own. But it's as if I can see through all that now. I ask myself what would make me happy and I have no answers. When I realized I was pregnant, I couldn't bear to live through it. I was trying to end the pregnancy when I took the overdose, but ending my own life didn't particularly bother me either."

"I felt the same after losing Abigail and the baby, Michaela. I never actually tried, but I felt my life had no value, no purpose." Sully reflected, knowing there was only one other person in the world he had admitted these feelings to before.

"Did you feel selfish?" Michaela asked softly.

"I was hurtin' too much to care. I didn't have any family, no one who cared about me, 'cept Cloud Dancin'. He showed me that my pain would pass. That my life was worth livin'." Sully spoke calmly.

"I know there are people who care about me. I love the children immensely, Sully, but I don't feel I'm being fair on them. I'm the parent, I'm supposed to support and guide them, not the other way around. They're supposed to worry about their friends and school, and go through their own disappointments and successes. I feel like a burden on them."

"Michaela; you _are_ going to get through this. There is going to be a time when it won't be the first thing you remember each morning and the last thing you think of at night."

Sully nodded at the surprised look of recognition on her face. "I felt the same way when I lost Abigail. It hit me again and again, with as much force and pain as the first moment Charlotte had to come and tell me they'd died. But gradually, I saw that life went on; it stopped hurting so much each time I did remember. And then, after a year or so, I stopped remembering quite so much. Once I got over the grief; I found new purpose in my life."

"It's not just the memories; it's the guilt. I've done things over the last six months that I would have deemed unforgivable a year ago. Things that most people, my family included, would never understand, much less forgive." Michaela looked up as Sully interrupted immediately.

"There was nothing Rebecca didn't forgive, Michaela. And I'm sure your Mother would forgive you if she knew all the facts."

"It's not Mother's forgiveness I want, Sully," Michaela sighed hopelessly.

"If your Father was the truly the person you described, he would have done anything to help you through this." Sully trailed off as Michaela moved into a slow pace away from him.

Michaela felt her hands tighten into fists either side of her body as she continued down the dimly lit path, further away from the homestead.

"I can't stand it, Sully! I can't stop remembering." She felt Sully brush her left arm lightly.

"It'll get better, Michaela," he reassured immediately.

"No, it won't." she retorted sharply, moving away just enough to sever the physical contact. "That's the point. It's not getting better. It's getting worse."

"Talk to me," Sully remained still, focusing on the strands of her hair, which were magnificently lit by the moonlight.

"It started after I found out about the baby. At first I'd just have nightmares; I'd hear it crying and go to it, but it won't look like a baby," she shook her head, desperate to dismiss the image. "Since Boston it's worse than that. I just have to feel it, or think about it and I see him. I've tried to rationalize it, it just seems to make it worse. I can't escape this child, but I can't live like this any longer." Michaela pleaded.

"You know it's just your mind playin' tricks. You've seen Indian babies, Michaela," he tried to calm her, to no avail.

"Don't you think I know that! I can't help what I see. I wish I'd never gone through with this!" she pulled her hands to her face, as she turned and moved quickly back towards the homestead.

"Michaela, stop," Sully grasped her right arm, managing to intercept her path. "You made the right decision. You can't doubt that."

"I doubt it every moment of every day, Sully," she voiced in a depersonalized tone. "I don't care if I do regret it, it's the now I can't live with. And if I can't stand myself today and tomorrow, what will it matter a year from now?"

"Because you won't feel like this forever. It's gonna get better," he rubbed her arm slowly, wanting to pull her into an embrace, yet unsure if she'd resist.

"And if it doesn't, it will be too late," Michaela could barely feel his touch. The hopelessness in her heart numbed everything around her.

Sully paused, hesitantly trying to find the right words. "Michaela, is it still something you want?"

"I don't know," she lowered her gaze. "Even if I allow myself to think beyond the next year, how am I ever going to raise this child? I'm scared that it's going to be something I'm forever explaining."

"Had you considered it when you were thinkin' about adoptin' the cowboy's baby?" Sully asked delicately, ensuring his tone was more curious than accusing.

"I had three adopted children already, I knew I could say he was adopted and that would be that. How am I ever going to tell this child the truth?" Michaela sighed.

"Nothin' to say ya gotta tell the child anythin' til it's old enough," Sully shrugged.

"It won't be something I can hide, Sully. Everyone will know the truth. You saw how they treated Zack last year." Michaela rested her chin in the palm of her right hand. "I feel guilty for the pain this child is going to suffer."

"Michaela, I'll do anything I can to help," Sully trailed off, shaking his head.

She shrugged, looking away. "I shouldn't be here, Sully."

Michaela commenced a determined walk back towards the porch.

"Michaela!" Sully called, turning around.

He sighed, hearing the door close behind her.

Calling Wolf to his side, Sully headed towards back towards the main road.

"Sully?" Matthew called, having been heading towards the barn for the night. "Everythin' all right?"

Helplessly, Sully shook his head. "I think I'm makin' it worse," he sighed.

"Dr Mike all right?" Matthew paced over towards Sully.

"No. And I'm runnin' out of ideas. Just," Sully paused, unsure if he should voice his fears, "keep an eye on her, Matthew."

Matthew nodded, only then interpreting the deeper meaning of Sully's words. "Thought things were gettin' better?"

"So did I. But think there's a lot of stuff that happened in Boston, we ain't dealt with yet. Maybe we did come home too soon." Sully folded his arms in thought.

"Ya sayin' Dr Mike might," Matthew wasn't sure how to phrase his suspicions, "think she might do somethin' bad again?"

"She don't see no way through this, Matthew." Sully answered honestly.

"What can we do?" the young man muttered, the fear evident in his voice.

"All right if I stay in the barn tonight?" Sully asked.

"Sure." Matthew turned back towards the barn and they both started walking, "Is it too late for Dr Mike to get rid of the baby?"

"That ain't the answer, Matthew," Sully sighed.

"Even if it helps her?" he challenged, as they arrived at the barn door.

"But it won't!" Sully drew a breath, forcing himself to calm.

He waited until they were inside, "Don't ya see. It won't help in the long run."

"Least she'll be alive." Matthew brought his hands to his hips, "if she dies, so does that baby."

Sully shook his head, watching as Wolf sniffed around the barn. "There's gotta be some way we can get ya ma through this. Something she can hang on to. To give her hope."


	99. Chapter 99

**Chapter 99**

**X.O.X**

**Monday, 25th September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

Brian blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the morning sunlight. Rolling over, the little boy reluctantly opened his eyes wider, before noticing his sister still asleep in the cot opposite him.

"Colleen?" he mumbled, surprised that she still appeared sound asleep.

Pulling himself from the snugness of his bed, Brian reached across to poke his sister's arm.

"_Colleen?" _Brian hissed a little louder, giving her a slightly harder poke until she stirred.

"Hmm?" she groaned, instinctively pulling her arm away.

"Colleen, don't we gotta go to school?" Brian asked.

"Isn't Ma up?" she answered, her level of consciousness gradually increasing.

"Nope," Brian shrugged, sitting back on the edge of his bed. "Must be gettin' late though."

Tossing the blankets back, Colleen dragged herself to her feet.

Managing to locate her olive green dressing gown at the end of the cot, Colleen paced across the homestead to check the clock above the mantel.

_Seven thirty-five._

"Ma?" Colleen called softly, turning around.

Arriving by the edge of her mother's bed, Colleen felt a smile come to her lips. "Dr Mike?" the young girl remembered the previous night.

"Hmm?" Michaela responded, pulling herself from sleep.

"It's gettin' late, ya gonna come into town?" Colleen asked bending down slightly.

"What time?" Michaela replied, rolling onto her back as she stared blankly up at the ceiling.

"Seven-thirty," Colleen shrugged. "Go back to sleep if ya want, I can fix breakfast."

"No, I'm awake," Michaela protested immediately, pulling herself into a sitting position.

Colleen turned back towards the kitchen to put a quick breakfast together. "Just gonna do eggs, since it's the quickest, all right?"

"Fine," Michaela nodded, reaching for her dressing gown.

"Morning, Ma!" Brian called gleefully, bounding across the room.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Michaela kissed him on the forehead.

"Are you comin' into town with us?" Brian asked casually, as he hunted around the homestead for his shoes.

"Yes, Brian. I need to spend some time cleaning up the clinic, and I want to check on Jake." Michaela sighed, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"How long 'fore we gotta leave?" Brian sat on the floor, in the middle of the homestead, pulling on his shoes.

"Soon, Brian," Colleen lit the stove, and scurried back to her room to dress.

**X.O.X**

"Well, looks like we just made it," Matthew pulled the wagon to a stop outside the schoolhouse.

"Have a nice day," Michaela turned around to kiss each of the children in turn.

"Something tells me it's gonna be a great week, now that Benjamin's not around," Colleen smiled smugly.

"Colleen," Michaela chastised, "I think things will be all right once he returns to school, too."

"Hope so," Colleen shrugged, watching as Brian ran eagerly ahead towards the schoolhouse.

As the children disappeared into the distance, Matthew encouraged Bear into a slow trot.

"Any plans for the day, Matthew?" Michaela asked with a tired sigh.

"Was gonna try and see Ingrid. Maybe go out to Miss Olive's if she's got any work goin'," he answered in a neutral tone.

"Well, I'll see you at four, then?" Michaela took in the familiar surroundings of the town.

"Will do," he answered as they pulled up outside the Clinic.

Helping Michaela down from the wagon, Matthew lead Bear back towards the Livery.

Michaela watched as Matthew disappeared from view, before stepping up onto the porch. She studied the bustling main street, people walking in all directions.

Turning to avoid eye contact with anyone, Michaela paced across to the wooden door and briskly entered the Clinic.

**X.O.X**

Michaela looked up from the notes in front of her at the soft knock on the Clinic door. "Come in," she closed the patient file, rising to her feet as she saw an unexpected wave of light brown hair appear.

"Hank?" Michaela remained behind the desk as the bartender slipped into the room, closing the door behind him, both eyeing each other awkwardly.

"Ah, yeah. Been wantin' to come see ya since ya got back," Hank cleared his throat, glancing around the room, anything to avoid direct eye contact.

"Are you ill?" Michaela frowned suspiciously, never knowing what to expect from Hank; especially these last few months.

"No, just, ah wanted to come by. Guess, I, been wantin' to apologize," he lowered his eyes to the floor.

Michaela swallowed, becoming apprehensive about where the conversation was headed. "I don't understand," she focused on bundling up her stethoscope and placing it back neatly into her medical bag which sat on the corner of the desk.

"Well, ah, once I thought about it, realized how damn unfair it is, you getting stuck with this kid. Just wished I'd a known, mighta been able to help," Hank sighed, turning back towards the door when he received no eye contact, nor verbal response.

"You?" Michaela kept her eyes focused on the handle of her medical bag, barely hearing the single word slip past her lips. She was still struggling to believe that Hank had dared broach the subject with her.

"Yeah. Know it ain't ever something you and I saw eye to eye on, but, well, I've had to deal with girls over the years, gettin' into trouble. Often they did it deliberate like, wantin' an excuse to stop workin', but some didn't. Some got forced. And well, thing is, when you know who to talk to, I know a few people in Denver. Coulda helped," Hank cleared his throat, realizing the conversation probably wasn't being well received.

Michaela turned slowly, seeing the calm expression on his face. "What makes you think that is what I would want?" she raised an eyebrow defensively.

"Oh, come on Michaela. Ain't you been through enough now to drop that high-and-mighty attitude? You ain't foolin' me; you ain't that perfect." Hank paused, seeing her sever the eye contact. "Ain't meanin' it in a bad way. Just meant, no woman'd want somethin' like this to happen. Know it probably ain't my place to say nothin', but ain't no-one else gonna. Hell, half this town still believes God has some hand in it all. Think we both know better than that," he shrugged, tossing his long hair over his shoulder.

"So, why exactly did you come here, Hank?" she rested her hand on the top of the black leather bag.

Hesitantly, the bar tender took several steps across the room, waiting until he had her complete attention. "Guess I just wanted to let ya know I felt bad about it. I understand ya leavin', just sorry it didn't turn out the way you wanted it to." Hank watched as Michaela took in his words. "I ain't stupid, Michaela. Know why you ran off. Can't say I blame ya," he cleared his throat, seeing the awkwardness on her face. "But glad ya came back. Ain't safe. Seen too many girls die, or give birth to deformed babies. Even the ones who made it through always regretted it." Hank turned back towards the door, with a casual sway, not expecting a reply.

"Hank?" Michaela looked up as he turned back to her, "I never would have expected it, but I appreciate your support." She saw the softness in his eyes.

"Know I ain't been too sensitive about all this, didn't give it enough thought. Wasn't until Myra told me a thing or two. Now if you need someone to talk to, she probably knows how ya feel. She ain't had an easy life, Michaela." Hank glanced around the tidy room, "Best get back, won't have no whiskey left at this rate."

Michaela watched as Hank stepped back out onto the porch, closing the door quietly. Still able to hear fragments of the conversation, she barely believed it had even taken place.

_Was he actually showing me concern? Compassion?_

She dismissed the thought, and went back to the textbook she'd been referencing.

_Why do I keep considering it? As if it's somehow an option._

Michaela closed the textbook, unable to ignore the baby's stronger movements.

She couldn't deny the connection that was slowly forming. But she couldn't tolerate it either.

Seeing her medical bag on the edge of the desk, Michaela reached for it quickly. Opening it, she emptied the contents on the desk before her.

Placing the medical items back inside, Michaela was left with several items she'd not laid eyes on since they'd arrived home from Boston:

The letter she had written to Horatio Storer, and a small slip of paper, folded, no bigger than the palm of her hand.

Clutching the folded letter tightly, Michaela knew she had to destroy it. Immediately, she stood from the desk and crossed the room to find a lantern.

**X.O.X**

Loren looked up from behind the counter as Dorothy flung her shawl around her shoulders.

"Where you off to?" he frowned, tapping his fingers on the glass counter-top.

"Never you mind," Dorothy dismissed, crossing the room to the door.

"You're goin' to see Dr Mike ain't ya?" Loren growled.

"So what if I am?"

"So, can't ya just leave the poor woman alone? She'd come over here if'n she wanted to see ya," Loren huffed.

"Ain't so sure a that," Dorothy turned sharply and walked briskly towards the Clinic.

Dorothy gazed out over the busy street as she arrived onto the porch.

Knocking confidently on the door, Dorothy tried to quickly think of a reason for her presence.

"Dorothy?" Michaela opened the door, stepping back as Dorothy saw herself inside.

"Mornin' Michaela," she smiled curtly as Michaela closed the door.

"Is something the matter?"

"Oh no. Wanted to ask if you'd join me for lunch at Grace's." Dorothy shrugged.

Michaela turned back to glance around the room, shaking her head in distraction. "I'm sorry, Dorothy. I was about to go and check on Jake."

"I see," Dorothy muttered, unsure as to whether or not she believed her friend. Slowly, Dorothy turned her gaze, "Somethin' burnin'?"

"Ah, no," Michaela answered a little too quickly.

"Michaela, if you won't join me for lunch, would you prefer I brought lunch over here?" Dorothy asked gently.

"No, I. I don't know." Michaela brought her hand to her mouth thoughtfully. "Sorry, Dorothy," she turned away quickly, feeling both the previous night's conversation with Sully and her recent conversation with Hank catch up with her.

"Are you all right?" Dorothy brushed Michaela's arm lightly.

Feeling her throat constrict with emotion and her eyes blur with tears, Michaela merely shook her head.

"Michaela, I'm your friend. You know I'd do anything to help." Dorothy sighed, grasping Michaela's arm supportively.

Michaela drew a shallow breath. "Hank was here earlier," she whispered.

"Now don't you let that cold-hearted man upset you. He doesn't know what he's talkin' 'bout," Dorothy responded quickly.

"No. He didn't upset me." Michaela fixed her gaze on a small picture on the opposite side of the room.

"He didn't?" Dorothy frowned.

Michaela reflected on their conversation, "No, he made me see things more clearly," she laughed cynically, "I travelled halfway across the country, and I could have achieved the same result had I simply just spoken to Hank."

Dorothy paused, lowering her voice. "Is this about the baby?"

Michaela nodded slowly, still not facing Dorothy. "I thought it would become easier. It's not," Michaela sighed, automatically casting her eyes down, before quickly redirecting her gaze.

Dorothy remained silent. She knew what she would have liked to say, but feared it wouldn't help.

"I feel like I can't move on; get past this; I don't know how to live like this," Michaela swallowed.

"I guess ya gotta keep remindin' yaself that it won't be forever. Count down the days or somethin'. Anythin' that'll make you feel you're gettin' through this." Dorothy offered.

"I can't stand the way people look at me now." Michaela continued.

"I know what ya mean, there. Couple a years after Marcus started beatin' me, word got 'round. Everyone knew. Used to give me this pityin' look every time I came to town." Dorothy spoke openly.

"It just makes me hate myself even more than I already do," Michaela chewed on her lower lip.

"Point is, Michaela, no-one looks at me like that anymore. Once Marcus died and I got workin' again, people put it behind them. That's what ya gotta do. Show people it's not who you are. That it's in the past."

"But it's not in the past, Dorothy! That's the whole problem." Michaela raised her voice in exasperation.

Dorothy frowned. "Yes, it is, Michaela. What happened to you is in the past. That baby isn't what happened to you. It's a consequence. Same as my ribs hurtin' come winter each year. Marcus inflicted the injury, yes, but, I don't have to re-inflict it every time I feel the pain." Dorothy took a step towards the door, unsure whether she'd been any help whatsoever.

"Are you saying it's all in the way I think about it?" Michaela asked tentatively.

"I suppose. Michaela, I'm not for one minute tryin' to say it weren't awful, but, you gotta show people it's not who you are. It happened to you, but don't let it become you. Don't make my mistakes." Dorothy thought back over all the years she had wasted.

"Even Hank thinks I'm doing the right thing," Michaela balked.

"That's countin' for somethin'. Just hold ya head up. Don't apologize for it; doesn't suit you, Michaela." Dorothy smiled.

"You're right," Michaela agreed, slightly more confidently.

"Now, on that note; lunch?" Dorothy attempted a second time.

"All right. But I really do need to check on Jake." Michaela acquiesced.

"Lunch, then Jake." Dorothy agreed, as she opened the wooden door and escorted Michaela out onto the porch.

**X.O.X**

Colleen sat with a group of her peers, exuberantly recounting events from the previous day.

"And it was so funny when Benjamin fell flat on his face! Serves him right!" Becky giggled, receiving agreement from several of her friends.

"The potato sack race was great, too!" Missy added, "We all thought Cal was gonna win, but then Lewis did!" she smiled, as Lewis blushed at the praise.

Colleen looked to Missy, unable to escape the feeling that she'd complimented Lewis deliberately.

"My Ma said it was real good that they let the girls and boys in the same races," Becky chimed in, trying to change the subject.

"Except none of the girls won anything," Alice rolled her eyes, "Ain't no way we can compete with the boys."

"That ain't true," Colleen defended sharply, "Was just bad luck this year. Sides, Becky came second in the egg and spoon race."

"And I woulda won except Cal cheated," Becky grumbled.

"He didn't?" Missy shrieked.

"Did so. When no-one was lookin', he was holdin' the egg on the spoon." Becky replied.

The children's voices drifted into silence, as they all took several bites of their respective lunches.

Looking up slowly from her sandwich, Missy hesitated before speaking, 'Was real good of Dr Mike to go help Benjamin, Colleen."

Colleen shrugged, that being one subject she didn't particularly wish to pursue.

"Yeah, 'specially given all the awful things he's said about her," Alice agreed.

"It's her job." Colleen muttered, lowering her gaze and hoping the subject would change.

"But don't she know the stuff he's said!" Missy hissed, the entire group not detecting Colleen's aversion to the conversation.

"She doesn't care!" Colleen threw her sandwich back into the metal lunch tin, angrily getting to her feet and moving briskly away from the group.

Making her way around the left side of the schoolhouse, Colleen sat down on the familiar log and recommenced her lunch.

Several moments later, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, "I don't care about it, Becky," Colleen preempted.

"It's, it's me," Lewis stuttered, hesitantly arriving at the end of the log.

"Oh," Colleen gestured for him to take a seat. "Sorry."

"They sure say some dumb things, don't they?" Lewis observed, placing his lunch tin carefully onto the log beside him.

"You'd think I'd be used to it by now." Colleen rolled her eyes, nibbling on the crust of her sandwich.

Lewis hesitated before speaking, taking an apple form his lunch box and looking it over. "So how was Boston? You ain't said anything about it."

Colleen was about to give a harsh reply, however paused just long enough to notice the genuine expression of interest on Lewis' face.

"Wasn't that great. We were only there three days, and mostly was just sittin' around, tryin' to convince Dr Mike to come back." Colleen turned, looking at Lewis directly, suddenly unsure if she'd divulged too much.

"Was Dr Mike gonna stay in Boston with her family?" Lewis asked curiously.

Colleen shrugged, "It was complicated. Don't matter now."

"It's all right. I know you don't like talkin' about it at school. We can talk about somethin' else if ya want?" Lewis suggested, taking another bite of his apple.

"Were people talkin' about us bein' gone?" Colleen asked suspiciously.

"A bit, but I don't really listen much to what the girls say." Lewis shrugged.

"I'm just sick of talking about it. Here and at home, it's all anyone ever talks about. It's like nothin' else important can happen anymore." Colleen sighed, cupping her chin in her right hand as she turned to face Lewis.

"Well, ah, maybe we could go for a walk after school tonight, if ya wanted to do somethin' different?" he suggested, suddenly feeling self-conscious, "I, I just meant, if ya didn't wanna go home right away," Lewis cleared his throat.

"That'd be great." Colleen smiled softly. "Thanks."

"It ain't that great at home neither. Uncle Horace and Myra are talkin' about the baby all the time. Poor Uncle Horace is always gettin' into trouble, he can't do nothin' right." Lewis chuckled, tossing his apple core into a nearby shrub.

"Still sounds better than my place. No-one says anythin' much. Sully and Dr Mike are always talking, but don't think it's doin' any good." Colleen closed her lunch tin, expecting the bell to start ringing at any moment.

"Maybe you can have dinner with us one night?" Lewis asked nervously.

"I'd like that," Colleen nodded, "But then it'd be difficult gettin' back out to the homestead after dark."

"I'll bet Uncle Horace'd take you. I'll ask him tonight." Lewis turned around at the sound of the bell in the distance.

"We'd better go, I guess," Colleen stood up reluctantly.

"Yeah. How about if we meet back here after school lets out?" Lewis suggested.

"Sure," Colleen nodded quickly, as they both made their way back towards the front of the schoolhouse.

**X.O.X**

Jake was sweeping up the morning's haircuts from the wooden floor when he heard the sounds of footsteps on the porch. Looking up out of habit, he was unable to conceal his surprise.

"Dr Mike?" Jake rested the broom against the wall as she stepped inside.

Glancing around to ensure that they were alone, Michaela took a seat on the bench in front of the window. "I haven't seen you in a few days, Jake."

He shrugged. "Been busy with work." he cleared his throat. "Tryin' to put it all behind me."

"How have you been sleeping?" she asked, watching him pace awkwardly around the small shop.

"Bit better, without the drinkin'. Still waking three or four times a night though." Jake pushed his hands deep into his pockets, visibly uncomfortable at having to talk about his problems.

"Are you still suffering from nightmares?" Michaela asked professionally, Dorothy's earlier words having struck a chord.

Jake shrugged, not wanting to think about it, let alone discuss it. Especially not with Michaela.

"Jake, I want to help you," Michaela reminded gently.

"Yeah, well, maybe you can't," Jake replied sharply.

"Will you at least let me try?" Michaela persisted. She was seeing herself in Jake's defensiveness.

_Is this what I've been like for the last six months?_

Jake stopped pacing, pulling his hands from his pockets and folding them tightly across his chest.

"How is me tellin' ya bout my dreams gonna help anyone?" Jake shook his head.

"Well, perhaps together we might be able to figure out what's causing them?" Michaela offered hopefully.

"But they ain't _real_!" Jake stopped abruptly. "It started when you were in Boston. First, I was just standin' in this open field. I looked down, and there was blood all over my hands." Jake paused, "Why is it, stuff that ain't that bad seems so bad in a nightmare?"

"I don't know, Jake. What happened next?" Michaela watched as he slowly walked over to the bench and took a seat beside her.

"Then, I was carryin' somethin'. Didn't know what it was, but, then I realized it was you." he shrugged. "Guess that bit makes sense."

"Go on," Michaela prompted.

"But then I realized," Jake cleared his throat, "you, you were dead. I was standin' in the middle of this field, just carryin' you,"

Michaela blinked, remembering the sunlight hitting her face as Jake carried her out of the teepee.

"See, don't wanna talk about this," Jake noticed the distant look on her face.

"Jake, it's important. I want to understand this as much as you," Michaela reassured.

"Well, then the nightmares started makin' sense. We were at the dog soldiers' camp, and I was searchin' for ya. Only, instead when I found ya, you were just lying there. And I knew you were dead." Jake sighed. "It's as if each time, I think it's finally gonna turn out all right, but it never does. You're always dead."

"Jake, tell me about how you found me." Michaela requested, knowing she had to put her own emotions after that of her patient's.

"Well, after a few days, Sully hadn't come back, and the army were ready to start the hangings. So, a group of us, Matthew, Loren, Horace, Robert E, the Reverend, we decided to go out and search for you and Sully. Weren't til the second morning that we found the dog soldiers' camp. Was just before dawn. Weren't many of 'em around. So we just started shootin'. Of course, then they started shootin' back, but we already had the upper hand by then. Then it got real quiet. And we figured they were all dead. So we started lookin' for you." Jake kept his eyes on the floorboards below them. "I heard Horace's voice. I didn't think, I mean, I thought you would be dead." Jake shook his head, trying to erase the images from his mind.

"I remember seeing you and Horace there," Michaela confirmed.

"Yeah, well, that was it. We found you." Jake shrugged, knowing now what had bothered him the most.

"And I was alive," Michaela corrected.

"Yeah," Jake muttered awkwardly. "I guess."

Michaela watched the expression change on his face. "You knew what had happened, Jake. Horace didn't, but you did," Michaela spoke in a depersonalized, professional tone.

Jake merely nodded uncomfortably.

"How?" Michaela continued.

"I could tell," Jake clenched his jaw. "The look on your face, I suppose."

There was a long silence.

"It was what we all feared. We knew it was gonna happen," Jake looked away, focusing on a small clump of hair left on the floor.

"We?" Michaela prompted, aware that the content of their discussion was not bothering her as much as she expected it would.

"Loren, Horace, Hank. When they took you, well, it's what they do," Jake spoke crisply.

"Has this happened before?" Michaela enquired curiously.

"'Bout a year ago, heard about some army captain's wife who got taken." Jake frowned angrily, "we shoulda warned ya, I dunno. Could see how friendly you were gettin' with them. Just thought Sully'd say something. We didn't protect you," Jake got to his feet, pacing loudly across the room.

"I said I'd protect you, and I didn't!" Jake yelled, throwing the nearest thing he could find, a brush, into a nearby wall.

"Jake, it wasn't your fault," Michaela arrived beside him, reaching for his arm.

"It's just, you ain't like other women. Ain't all weak and needy." Jake continued.

"Jake, I didn't expect you, or anyone else to rescue me. It all started over the army officers' murders, and, I made the wrong choices. Sully warned me about retaliation, but, I didn't listen." she reflected.

"It sure ain't your fault." Jake defended quickly. "If we'd just gone out earlier, kept searching that last night. We coulda prevented all this."

"It doesn't matter now, Jake. I'm just glad that you found me. You saved my life." Michaela tried to focus him on the positive outcome.

"And I'm supposed to be glad about that?" Jake sighed.

Michaela tilted her head, "I don't understand."

"Are you glad we found you, even though it was too late?" Jake kept his eyes downcast.

Michaela paused, trying to be as honest as she could. "I didn't think I would be. But I am now. You saved Matthew, Colleen and Brian the pain of losing me; and you allowed me to keep helping people. That is what's important to me. The rest, I will learn to live with."

"You mean it?" Jake turned, grasping her wrist desperately.

Michaela saw the tears that had collected in his eyes.

"Yes, Jake," Michaela replied firmly.

Jake nodded, dropping his hand from her arm. "'Least I know we did the right thing."

"Has that been bothering you all this time?" Michaela reflected over the nightmares Jake had been experiencing.

"Guess so. Didn't start thinkin' 'bout it til Loren told me about," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "til you'd gone to Boston."

"That's when you started having the nightmares, isn't it?" Michaela suggested.

"'Suppose so. Ain't thought about it like that," Jake shrugged.

"It's sounds as though the two are very much connected, Jake." Michaela speculated. "You need to tell yourself, you did the right thing."

"Right," Jake nodded, not entirely convinced.

"Believe me, Jake." Michaela reassured.

**X.O.X**

Colleen waited until all the other children had left the classroom before slowly rising from her desk.

"Everything all right, Colleen?" the Reverend inquired casually from the front of the room.

"Oh yes, Reverend," Colleen answered quickly, before wrapping her shawl around her shoulders and leaving the room.

Stepping out onto the porch, she saw Lewis to her left, by a fallen tree.

Making sure there was no one to see them, Colleen dashed over to him.

"Why'd ya stay inside so long?" Lewis asked, as they walked quickly towards some trees.

"Didn't want anyone seein' us. Better we keep it quiet for now," she replied.

Colleen waited until they were in the secluded forest before taking his hand.

"Been good without Benjamin at school, ain't it?" Lewis smiled.

"Yeah," Colleen laughed, gazing at the stunning scenery around her.

Lewis paused, looking at their joined hands before summoning up the courage to speak.

"Colleen, well, the reason I asked ya here, is, wanted to know if," he cleared his throat, becoming more nervous by the fact that Colleen had stopped walking. "Well, can, I mean, would you let me, I mean," Lewis felt his face redden and his hands become sweaty.

Colleen chewed on her lower lip, hoping he was going to ask what she thought he was.

"Would it be all right if we were courtin'?" Lewis kept his eyes lowered, sure she would decline.

"Course it'd be all right," Colleen answered immediately.

Lewis slowly lifted his gaze, a smile broadening on his face. "Really?"

"Sure," Colleen squeezed his hand, returning the smile.

They continued to walk amidst the trees, Colleen taking a deep breath and sighing loudly.

"Lewis, can we keep it secret for a while?" Colleen asked tentatively.

"If you want to. How come?" Lewis frowned, stuffing his free hand into his pocket.

"Well, I ain't asked Dr Mike about it. She'll probably think I'm too young." Colleen cringed.

"I won't say anything," Lewis promised, "But how long before we can tell anyone?"

"Just give me a couple of days?" Colleen smiled, lightly tossing her hair over her right shoulder.

Lewis returned the smile slowly, looking down at their interlocked hands. "How about if we go for a walk?" he suggested nervously.

"I'd like that," Colleen frowned momentarily. "I gotta get back though. Brian and I finished school at the same time. He'll be wonderin' where I am."

"Can you ask Dr Mike about dinner tomorrow night? I'm sure it'll be all right." Lewis studied her long, blonde hair carefully.

"I will." Colleen paused, a smile coming to her face as she watched him.

"Oh," Lewis met her gaze sharply.

Awkwardly, Colleen slid her hand from his grasp. "I'll see ya tomorrow," she spoke softly.

"Colleen," Lewis touched her shoulder lightly. Before he had time to second-guess himself, Lewis moved forward to kiss her cheek.

Blushing slightly, Colleen forced herself to look up at him. "I gotta go," she repeated solemnly, barely hesitating before leaning forwards and kissing Lewis strongly on the lips.

Before the young man knew what had happened, Colleen was running back towards the schoolhouse.

"Bye Colleen!" Lewis called, eventually finding his voice.


	100. Chapter 100

**Chapter 100**

Colleen waited until the supper dishes were finished and put away, before excusing herself and heading out towards the barn.

"Matthew?" she called, in a strained whisper.

"What's up?" her brother answered, cleaning out a stall.

"Gotta tell ya somethin'," Colleen pursed her lips with excitement.

"What?" Matthew shrugged, sweeping old hay from Flash's stall.

"Ya gotta promise to keep it a secret," Colleen added.

Mathew rolled his eyes, "Colleen?"

"No, I mean it, _promise_," she insisted.

"Colleen, the last time you made me promise to keep somethin' a secret," he trailed off, both of them realizing how disastrous that had been.

"No, this is a good thing," she giggled, clutching her skirt.

"All right," Matthew reluctantly agreed.

Colleen hesitated just long enough to have her brother's full attention.

"Lewis and I are courtin'!" she squealed.

Matthew stopped moving, a frown coming to his face, "You and Lewis are what?"

"He asked if we could go courtin'," she repeated, not expecting her brother to have a problem, after all, Ingrid was barely a year older than she was.

Mathew cleared his throat protectively, "When was this?"

"This afternoon," Colleen answered, her smiled slowly dropping.

"Now I know why you swore me to secrecy." Matthew nodded, as he continued sweeping the hay.

"Come on, you promised you wouldn't tell nobody," Colleen pleaded.

"It ain't 'nobody' you're worried about. You don't wanna tell Dr Mike," Matthew grinned cheekily.

"She's hardly gonna approve. Don't think they start courtin' till they're over twenty in Boston." Colleen sighed.

"Well, happy as I am for you, Colleen. I only got two things to say. First, ya gotta tell Dr Mike."

"But Matthew, she'll think I'm too young. She thought you were too young to be seein' Ingrid." Colleen objected.

"No, she thought I was too young to _marry_ Ingrid." he cringed, "But you're right. She's gonna think you're too young. She'd probably still think you were too young if you were twenty-five."

"So what do I do?" Colleen begged.

"Maybe tell Sully?" Matthew suggested.

"The thing is, Lewis asked if I wanted to have supper with him at Mr Bing's tomorrow night. What can I say to Dr Mike?"

"Just tell her the truth, you two are friends," Matthew shrugged.

"Think she'll let me?"

"Ain't got much choice. Worth a try," Matthew suggested.

Colleen nodded, slowly coming around to the idea. "What was the second thing?" Colleen tilted her head.

"Huh?" Matthew looked back up.

"You said you wanted to say two things?" Colleen prompted.

"Oh, ah," Matthew coughed, looking vaguely around the room. "Ah, just don't let him touch ya or nothin'."

Colleen blushed, before letting out a soft laugh, "You touch Ingrid?"

"Ain't the same thing," Matthew answered awkwardly.

"Why ain't it?" Colleen smirked.

"Not, not when it's my sister," Matthew pulled his face into an expression of horrified disgust.

Continuing to giggle under her breath, Colleen turned and left the barn.

**X.O.X**

**Tuesday, 26th September, 1869**

_**One Day Later**_

**X.O.X**

As Sully approached the reservation, he sensed something was wrong. There was very little sound or movement.

Scanning the landscape before him, Sully searched for Cloud Dancing's familiar face, but he could not see him.

Arriving into the village, Sully quickly approached an elder, "Is there trouble?"

The man nodded gravely, gesturing to the teepee that Sully knew to be Cloud Dancing and Snow Bird's.

"Where's Cloud Dancing?" Sully frowned, looking at the sea of woman and children around him.

The Elder gestured towards the trees in the distance.

Sully thanked him and ran to find Cloud Dancing.

"Cloud Dancin'!" he called, following behind Wolf.

Watching as Wolf tracked a scent, Sully noticed Cloud Dancing step out from behind a tree.

"What's goin' on?" Sully frowned.

"It is Snow Bird," Cloud Dancing answered solemnly. "Something is wrong with the baby."

Sully shook his head, squinting in confusion.

"She is bleeding." Cloud Dancing looked away, knowing he couldn't ask his friend for Medicine Woman's help.

Sully grasped his brother's arm, wishing he could help. "Are the women helpin'?"

"Yes. But she is getting weaker." Cloud Dancing answered, his head lowered.

"I can't ask her Cloud Dancing. Michaela ain't ready. I wish there was somethin' I could do." Sully paused, "I could bring Colleen?"

Cloud Dancing nodded quickly, "That would be good, Sully. She saved Dr Mike; she will save Snow Bird."

"Can I borrow a horse to get into town?" Sully tapped his thigh for Wolf to follow him.

"Yes. Take my horse," Cloud Dancing's eyes glimmered with hope.

"I'll be back, soon as I can." Sully assured, moving quickly to find Cloud Dancing's horse and leave the reservation.

**X.O.X**

"This is ridiculous," Michaela sighed out of boredom, getting quickly to her feet and heading towards the door.

"Oh!" Both women startled as Michaela came face to face with Myra on the other side of the wooden door.

"Myra, I'm sorry," Michaela smiled, stepping back inside.

"No, I shoulda rung the bell. Was just comin' to see ya," Myra arrived into the room beside her.

"Is everything all right?" Michaela asked skeptically.

"Sure, just Horace said you wanted me to drop by," Myra shrugged.

**X.O.X**

"Now children, I want you to copy down the words on the board for you spelling test on Friday. Once you have finished this, you may go to recess." the Reverend took a seat back at his desk, glancing around the room for any signs that the children were not following his instructions.

Colleen began writing down the spelling list, however stopped when she felt Becky nudge her arm.

Looking over, Becky pointed in Lewis' direction, and handed Colleen a small daisy.

Pursing her lips to keep from grinning, Colleen felt her cheeks redden, as she slipped the flower into her math book and tried to concentrate on copying the rest of the words from the blackboard.

After several minutes, children began to stand and leave the room.

Colleen looked up as Lewis left, before she quickly scribbled the remaining few words and got to her feet.

"It's so excitin'! You gettin' to go to his house for supper!" whispered Becky, as she scurried after Colleen towards the door.

"Still can't believe Dr Mike said I could," Colleen wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, smoothing out the skirt of her red floral dress.

As the two girls stepped down from the porch, Colleen spotted Sully approaching from the distance.

"Sully?" she frowned as he pulled the horse to a stop in front of her.

"Ya gotta come, Colleen. Snow Bird's sick," Sully wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Colleen chewed on her lower lip, not sure if she wanted to go out there. "What about Dr Mike?" she asked tentatively.

Dismounting the horse, Sully waited until Colleen had moved closer.

"Can't ask ya ma, Colleen. She won't wanna go out there, you know that."

"I know, just, ain't so sure I want to either," Colleen looked down at the ground nervously.

"She needs help, Colleen." Sully answered, feeling panic creep in.

"What's wrong with her?" Colleen felt her compassion building.

"Cloud Dancin' said she's losin' the baby. Been bleedin' since yesterday," Sully actually saw the doubt flash across Colleen's face.

"I, I don't wanna Sully," she looked down, as terrifying memories began to surface.

"I know it's hard, Colleen. But you can't expect Dr Mike to go out there," Sully replied.

"Can't you bring Snow Bird into town so Dr Mike can treat her?" Colleen tried to think of a solution.

"She can't travel that far. Colleen, please. You and Snow Bird are friends." Sully pleaded.

Colleen pulled at the sleeves of her dress. "I don't want to be responsible for her dyin'. I wouldn't know what to do, anyway."

Sully turned to look back towards the main street. "If we tell ya ma, and she tells you what to do, could ya help Snow Bird?"

Colleen winced uncomfortably, "I guess so."

"Good girl," he squeezed her shoulder in gratitude. "I'll meet you at the Clinic."

**X.O.X**

"Dr Mike, you sure I'm gainin' enough weight? Just with bein' so sick, I've been worried," Myra waited until Michaela had finished writing notes in her patient file.

"Try not to worry, Myra. You're over three months, so the risk of miscarriage is greatly lowered. You should start to feel better soon, too," Michaela glanced up from her notes only long enough to take in the paleness of Myra's face.

"I sure hope so, feels like I can't keep anythin' down. Never thought it'd be this bad," Myra shook her head miserably.

"I'll get you to take some sodium bicarbonate. Put a pinch with a glass of water and drink it, three times a day with meals." Michaela stood and crossed the room to the medicine cabinet, preparing the medicine.

"Thank-you," Myra sighed. "Dr Mike, Horace wanted me to ask, ain't there no way of knowin' if it'll be a boy of a girl?"

Michaela paused from tipping the sodium bicarbonate into a small pouch, "I'm afraid not Myra."

"We tried doin' that thing with the weddin' ring, which said it would be a boy, but I ain't so sure," Myra shrugged, hearing Michaela walk back across the room.

"That's nothing more than an old wives' tale, Myra. You won't know until the baby is born." Michaela handed Myra the small pouch of medicine, gesturing back towards the examination table.

Myra got to her feet and managed to lie down on the examination table.

"First I'll try to hear the baby's heartbeat," Michaela gently pulled the edge of Myra's skirt down just far enough to expose her lower abdomen.

Tucking her hand up behind her head, Myra gazed up at the ceiling. Feeling the bell of the stethoscope touch her flesh, Myra sighed.

Michaela glanced towards her patient, seeing the smile broaden over Myra's face.

Forcing herself to continue listening for a heartbeat, she couldn't help the anger that washed over her.

Michaela frowned in concentration, quickly giving up, "It's probably too soon, Myra," she reassured with a slight smile.

"Nothin's wrong, is it?" Myra sat up, tucking her blouse into her skirt.

"Everything seems fine at this stage," Michaela nodded, taking a step back from the examination table.

Myra nodded awkwardly, trying to think of anything to fill the emptiness. "Is Jake gonna be all right?"

"He seems to be recovering well," Michaela answered, walking back across the room to behind her desk.

Myra slipped down off the table.

"Thanks, Dr Mike," she placed the coins on the edge of the desk.

"Come and see me again in another month, unless there is anything that concerns you," Michaela looked up from her patient's file, seeing the hesitant look on Myra's face.

"I will, Dr Mike." Myra nodded, glancing around the room. "Sure am glad you're all right," she smiled softly.

Michaela frowned, reluctantly meeting Myra's gaze. "Myra, out of curiosity, exactly what percentage of the town are aware of the incident the other night?"

Myra paused, momentarily confused, "You mean Jake gettin' shot? Ain't no-one said nothin'. That ain't what I meant, Dr Mike." Myra looked away awkwardly. "We heard ya were sick in Boston, and I was worried about you."

"I see." What precisely did you hear?" she rested her chin in her right hand suspiciously.

"Well, little Brian sent a telegram back to Matthew, said you'd been taken to hospital." Myra answered openly. "Ya are all right, ain't ya?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Michaela answered very succinctly, quickly getting to her feet.

Myra remained perfectly still, choosing her reply carefully, "I'm sorry. Ain't no-one gonna understand how you're feelin'." she saw Michaela consider her words.

"Most of the time, I don't understand." Michaela turned back towards the window to avoid looking at Myra.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Dr Mike. Ya don't gotta worry about people talkin'. Ain't sayin' nothin' bad about ya. Everyone's just glad you're back; wantin' to help if they can." Myra shrugged, walking slowly across to the door, not expecting a response.

"Myra?" Michaela turned back towards her, pausing awkwardly. "Thank-you."

"Anytime, Dr Mike," Myra smiled warmly, leaving the Clinic in silence.

Michaela waited until she heard the Clinic door close before moving slowly back towards her desk. Taking a seat, she reflected on Myra's words.

_I never would have believed I'd find myself envious of Myra._

Seeing the partially opened drawer in front of her, Michaela pulled the desk drawer towards her, immediately recognizing the letter sitting on the top of the pile of paperwork.

She knew immediately it had been read.

_That's how they found me._

Slowly picking up the envelope, Michaela shook her head, before tearing it into two even pieces and placing it back onto the desk in front of her.

Continuing to rummage through the drawer, Michaela paused when she saw the familiar golden leafed booklet in her right hand. She knew exactly what the object was by the Caduceus on the front cover.

Slightly brown from both dust and age, Michaela flipped opened the small booklet, as she glanced over the alphabetized list of names.

Her consciousness was immediately filled with memories of her classmates, conversations and all-night study sessions.

After reading through the list of graduates, Michaela turned the page, recognizing the Hippocratic Oath from several distinct paragraphs.

_I will give no deadly medicine to any one if asked, nor suggest any such counsel; and in like manner I will not give to a woman a pessary to produce abortion._

_While I continue to keep this Oath unviolated, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and the practice of the art, respected by all men, in all times. But should I trespass and violate this Oath, may the reverse be my lot._

Michaela jumped at the sound of a knock at the door.

"It's Sully!" he called urgently.

Stuffing the documents back into the drawer, she looked up towards the door.

"Come in," Michaela replied.

Sully and Wolf burst into the room, both visibly out of breath.

"What's wrong?" Michaela stood quickly.

As he struggled to catch his breath, Sully realized he hadn't actually planned how he was going to phrase the problem.

"Ah, if someone were havin' a miscarriage, what would you tell Colleen to do?" Sully saw the look of bewilderment on her face.

"Sully, what's going on?" she demanded.

"It's Snow Bird. Colleen's comin' out to the reservation with me," he answered, turning as he heard footsteps on the porch behind him.

"You don't want me to go?" Michaela shook her head, seeing Colleen arrive behind Sully.

"Didn't think you'd wanna," Sully shrugged.

Crossing the room to the medicine cabinet, Michaela automatically fetched the several drugs she needed and carried them across to her bag.

"What are you doing?" Sully frowned suspiciously.

"I'm going with you," Michaela added her stethoscope and closed the bag.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Sully raised an eyebrow.

Michaela stopped, allowing herself to consider his objection. Without answering, she stepped out onto the porch and spoke with Colleen.

"Colleen, will you please fetch some towels," Michaela waited until her daughter had gone upstairs to complete the errand.

"Sully, it's not fair to expect Colleen to deal with this." Michaela countered.

"She'll be all right. You can tell her what to do, can't ya?" Sully shrugged.

"It's not that simple. What if Snow Bird isn't all right? What will that do to Colleen? I'm not prepared to re-traumatize her." Michaela replied forcefully.

"What about you?" Sully challenged.

Michaela lowered her gaze. "I won't know until I get there."

"I don't reckon you should go out there, is all," Sully tried to reason with her.

"I have a duty to help her, Sully. The circumstances are irrelevant." Michaela disassociated quickly, crossing the room and slipped her long jacket over her dark green blouse and skirt.

"Michaela, no one expects you to do this. Cloud Dancin' understands," Sully tried one last vein attempt to get her to reconsider.

"What happened to me wasn't Snow Bird's fault. I've cost her one child already. I'm not about to cost her another." Michaela clasped her bag and moved determinedly towards the door. "Let's go,"

Sully nodded slowly, unconvinced, but recognizing when Michaela's mind was made up.

Michaela watched from the doorway as Colleen placed the pile of towels on the back of the wagon.

Walking over to her, Michaela saw the girl try to mask her apprehension.

"Colleen, it's all right. You don't have to come if you don't want to," Michaela touched her shoulder.

"Are you goin'?" Colleen asked in amazement.

Michaela nodded.

"Then I'll go," Colleen answered quickly.

Sully came out from the Clinic, closing the door behind him. "All set?"

"Yes," Michaela waited by the side of the wagon.

"Here, Dr Mike," Colleen leaned over from the side of the wagon to take her medical bag.

Michaela nodded, as Sully arrived beside her to lift her up.

"Thank-you," Michaela sighed, watching as Sully came around to the other side of the wagon and climbed up next to her.

"Wolf back there, Colleen?" Sully looked behind him.

"Sure is," Colleen answered, fending off sniffs and licks of affection.

"Right," Sully reluctantly slapped Bear's reins, moving the horse into a brisk trot.

**X.O.X**

They had remained silent for the entirety of the journey thus far, Sully occasionally glancing over at Michaela.

"Not far now," Sully prompted, his gut telling him this was a bad idea.

Colleen watched as the scene before them familiarized. She thought she'd never come back here.

Michaela squinted as she looked as far as she could into the distance, seeing the smoke rising from the reservation.

She knew she didn't want to be doing this, but also that she was needed.

They drew closer, and Michaela could see the reservation.

As her eyes fell upon the sea of people, burning fires and teepees, Michaela feared for the first time that she wouldn't be capable of helping Snow Bird.

"Sully, stop," Michaela reached for his arm tightly.

"Ya all right?" Sully pulled the horse quickly to a halt, still several hundred feet from the reservation.

"Can, can we walk?" she asked, hoping she'd feel better if she was at least in control of how she proceeded from this point.

"Sure," Sully nodded, looking back to Colleen.

"Colleen, you wanna go on ahead? We'll catch up?" Sully suggested, not expecting the girl to object.

"Can't I stay with you?" she winced, sliding down from the back of the wagon as Sully walked around to help her mother down.

"All right," Sully moved Bear across to a nearby tree, to secure him.

"Do they know we're comin'?" Colleen asked tentatively.

"Cloud Dancin' thinks I'm bringin' you," Sully answered, watching Michaela absorb her surroundings.

"Here, Ma," Colleen gingerly offered her mother the black medical bag.

"Thank-you," Michaela took the bag slowly, before moving determinedly towards the reservation.

Sully waited until Michaela was further away before he spoke.

"Colleen, you gonna be all right out here?" he brushed her arm.

"Sure," she shrugged.

"I got no way a knowin' how ya ma's gonna cope, understand? Are you all right to stay with Cloud Dancin' if we have to leave in a hurry?" he asked.

"Guess so," Colleen swallowed, "There ain't any dog soldiers out here, are there Sully?"

"I hope not," Sully sighed, following behind Michaela as the three of them made their way towards the reservation.

**X.O.X**

Cloud Dancing stepped out from his teepee when he saw the familiar wolf approach.

"Where is Sully?" he touched the animal's head lightly.

Just as he asked the question, Cloud Dancing saw the trio approaching.

He could not hide the small smile that came to his face.

Sully nodded as he saw Cloud Dancing ahead of them.

"Michaela?" he caught up with her. "If ya want, Colleen can check on Snow Bird?" Sully offered.

Stopping as she took a prolonged glance around her, Michaela shook her head.

"It's my responsibility," Michaela replied in a flat tone.

They continued until they reached Cloud Dancing.

"Thank-you for coming, Dr Mike," he nodded sincerely. "Snow Bird has been bleeding since yesterday. She is in a lot of pain." Cloud Dancing gestured to his teepee behind him.

"Colleen, assist me?" Michaela turned to her daughter, waiting until Colleen had acknowledged her request before looking back to Sully and Cloud Dancing.

With an unsure shrug, Cloud Dancing walked over to the teepee and opened the flap. Glancing at Sully, both watched as Michaela and Colleen walked over.

Not once did Michaela hesitate, until moments before she was to enter.

"Colleen," Michaela moved aside and indicated for Colleen to enter first.

The young girl entered without a second's thought, and quickly rushed to Snow Bird's side.

Michaela paused, seeing the sunlight stream through the opening in front of her.

About to proceed, she spotted Cloud Dancing's hand holding the flap open mere inches from her head.

Unintentionally, Michaela recoiled.

"I can't," she looked down.

She felt her heart race, her body cold with anxiety. Yet she was powerless to overcome the fear.

"Ma?" Colleen beckoned, seeing the frozen expression of panic on her mother's face.

"Michaela," Sully came up beside her quickly.

Her arms and hands tingling with anxiety, Michaela took several steps to her left, further away from both Sully and Cloud Dancing.

"You don't gotta do this," Sully lowered his voice, trying to remain calm, despite Snow Bird's pained cries.

"Yes, I do," Michaela spoke in a seething tone of determination.

As if suddenly comprehending his negative contribution to the situation, Cloud Dancing dropped the flap of the teepee and walked away.

Sully watched Michaela follow Cloud Dancing's movements intently.

"Want me to help?" Sully asked, moving towards the teepee.

"No," Michaela shook her head, took a deliberate breath and moved back towards the opening of the teepee.

Sully nodded, walking back beside Cloud Dancing.

Reminding herself that her daughter was inside, Michaela reached for the teepee flap, and drew it back. She remained in the doorway for several moments, watching Colleen tend to Snow Bird.

She felt the perspiration between her right hand and the leather handle of her medical bag.

_I can do this._

_It's only Colleen and Snow Bird._

_Sully is right outside._

_Nothing bad is going to happen._

Michaela tried to rationalize the situation, and soon realized it was only further provoking the anxiety she was experiencing.

Pulled from her thoughts by a cry of pain from Snow Bird, Michaela rushed inside.

Snow Bird looked up towards her, her expression a mix of gratitude and surprise.

Kneeling beside Colleen, Michaela quickly became oblivious to her surroundings and focused on her patient.

"Tell me what's happened?" she saw the sweat collected on Snow Bird's face.

"She's bleedin'," Colleen lent over to wipe Snow Bird's face with a damp cloth.

Seeing the pain on Snow Bird's face, Michaela immediately examined her.

Michaela knew there was little she would be able to do. Snow Bird was bleeding significantly, with contractions and her cervix was dilated to over an inch.

"Ergot," Michaela looked up as Colleen rummaged through her medical bag.

"The baby. Will I lose the baby?" Snow Bird pleaded.

"Everything's going to be fine," Michaela reassured, stroking the side of Snow Bird's face until Colleen handed her the ergot.

"What can I do?" Colleen watched helplessly as Michaela carefully administered the medicine.

"Nothing," Michaela sighed, repositioning the blanket over Snow Bird's legs while she waited.

Colleen and Michaela exchanged silent glances as Snow Bird's pained gasps and cries continued.

Reaching forwards, Michaela tentatively placed a hand firmly over Snow Bird's lower abdomen, realizing she was not going to prevent the inevitable.

_This is so unfair._

Michaela knew expelling the tissue was the only way Snow Bird's pain would be relieved.

She pressed down hard on Snow Bird's abdomen. Hearing her patient's cries of pain increase, Michaela knew it had to be done.

"It shouldn't be much longer," she consoled softly, seeing the tears stream down Snow Bird's face.

Michaela looked away.

_Why couldn't it have been me?_

Colleen leant forward to grasp Snow Bird's hand.

"It's going to be all right," Colleen reassured helplessly.

Michaela was studying the pattern of the blanket under her hand when she heard Snow Bird's cries peak in intensity.

Gently lifting the edge of the blanket, Michaela saw the expelled tissue.

Her breath caught in her throat.

There was no sound apart from Snow Bird's heavy breathing.

As her eyes flickered between the edge of the blanket in her fingers and the pool of blood before her, Michaela felt the tingling sensation return to her upper body.

Drawing a desperate breath, she tried to remember what she needed to do next.

"Dr Mike?" Colleen saw her mother's face pale.

Gazing upwards in a desperate attempt to see something other than blood, Michaela's eyes fell upon the interlocked sticks as they met at the top of the teepee.

Like a bolt of lightning, Michaela felt the anxiety wash over her tenfold. Looking back down, she let the blanket drop from her right hand. Only then did she notice the blood staining her fingers.

Michaela was immediately consumed by nausea which involuntarily swirled from her stomach.

"Ma?" Colleen spoke more forcefully, trying to summon Michaela's attention.

Michaela felt her throat constrict, as her eyes darted from her hands to the small split of sunlight coming from the teepee flap to her right.

Pulling herself to her feet, Michaela bolted towards the opening. As the sunlight engulfed her, she was oblivious to her surroundings. Not caring where she was at that particular moment, Michaela kept running.

Running until she felt far enough away from danger and could no longer hold back the nausea, Michaela fell to her knees.

She felt the rough dirt under the palms of her hands as she heaved with sickness.

Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, Michaela sat back to catch her breath.

It was then, that she realized she wasn't alone.

Sully had followed behind her after he and Cloud Dancing saw her emerge from the teepee.

Crouching down, he kept his distance, until she'd recovered enough to recognize him.

"It's all right," Sully spoke in a hushed tone.

He watched her look down at the blood which still covered her fingers.

"Here," he removed the canteen of water from over his head and approached her.

Michaela remained silent, watching tentatively as Sully arrived beside her and reached for her right hand.

She felt the cool water run over her skin, and gradually, the anxiety lifted.

Sully ripped a patch of material from the edge of his white shirt, and quickly began cleaning her hands.

Minutes passed without a sound being spoken.

Waiting until Sully was drying her left hand, Michaela eventually spoke.

"Thank-you," she whispered.

"You feelin' all right?" Sully frowned worriedly.

Dropping her head into her hands, Michaela saw the recent images flash through her consciousness.

She couldn't hold back the tears that flowed.

"It's not fair, Sully," she cried.

Helplessly, he brought an arm around her shoulders.

"She wanted that baby," Michaela fell wearily into his embrace, her head resting against his chest.

"It's not your fault, Michaela," he tried to reassure her.

"Why her?" Michaela opened her eyes, dropping her hands to her lap. "Why her and not me?"

Having no words of solace, Sully merely shook his head, holding her tighter against his chest as she continued to cry.

They sat on the ground in silence until Michaela had stopped crying.

"Wanna go home?" Sully looked down.

"Snow Bird," Michaela met his glance.

"Colleen's with her," Sully reminded her.

Sully looked over as he heard Wolf stand up with a whine.

"Ma?" Colleen arrived into the clearing.

"Everything's all right," Sully reassured, as Colleen bent down next to Michaela.

"I'm sorry," Colleen muttered, shaking her head. "Shoulda come out here with Sully alone."

"Let's just get ya ma home," Sully sighed.

"Cloud Dancin's with Snow Bird. Bleedin's just about stopped, so she should be fine," Colleen informed Sully.

"Good," Sully nodded.

"Here, Ma," Colleen offered her hand, as she and Sully helped Michaela to her feet.

Keeping her gaze downcast as she was helped into a standing position, Michaela tried to focus her vision.

"Michaela?" Sully frowned, seeing her confused expression.

Looking up to answer him, she felt her head fall backwards and her vision darken.

"Ma!" Colleen squealed, as Sully managed to stop her falling.

"Knew this was a bad idea," Sully sighed, looking down as Michaela remained motionless in his arms.

"She seemed all right before," Colleen shook her head.

"Well, she ain't," Sully snapped, as they headed slowly back towards the wagon.

Grateful that all the attention of the villagers was on Snow Bird, Sully gently laid Michaela in the wagon.

As the wagon started moving, Colleen looked down at Michaela's head in her lap.

"It's all right, Ma," she stroked her forehead as Michaela stirred. "Ssh, just rest," Colleen coaxed, surprised when her mother did not protest and wearily dropped her eyes back closed.


	101. Chapter 101

**Chapter 101**

The wagon ride back to the homestead was quiet, as Colleen tended to Michaela.

Pulling up outside the homestead, Sully quickly secured the horses and arrived at the back of the wagon.

"Ma, we're home," Colleen spoke softly.

Slowly, Michaela opened her eyes and pulled herself into a sitting position.

"Here," Sully reached for her hand to help her to the edge of the wagon.

Without uttering a sound, Michaela accepted his help and slid down from the edge of the wagon.

"Feelin' better?" Sully asked, as he helped her towards up the steps.

"I'll be fine," Michaela reassured immediately, as Colleen entered the homestead and turned back the covers on Michaela's bed.

"Here," Colleen watched as Sully settled Michaela on to the bed.

"I'm all right," Michaela protested as Colleen quickly removed her jacket and shoes, and draped the sheet and quilt over her.

"Ma, will you just rest for a while," Colleen sighed in exasperation.

Swallowing, Michaela became aware of the nausea that had settled once again in the pit of her stomach.

Weakly, she nodded in acceptance of Colleen's instructions.

Sully pulled a wooden chair over to the side of the bed and took a seat, his arms rested on the back of the chair.

"Shouldn't a let you go out there," Sully muttered, shaking his head in frustration.

In no mood to argue, Michaela didn't lift her gaze from the patchwork quilt, and let his words pass unacknowledged.

They sat in silence whilst Colleen brought in the items left out in the wagon.

As she placed Michaela's medical bag on the table, Colleen looked over towards her mother.

One eyebrow raised, Colleen crossed the room and sat on the edge of the edge. "Anythin' I can get?"

Michaela shook her head dismissively, before settling into a more comfortable position.

Colleen and Sully exchanged concerned glances.

"I'll put the horses away," Colleen moved quickly towards the door.

Having only made it as far as the wagon, she heard the door open and close behind her.

Colleen rested her arms on the edge of the wagon as she waited for Sully to catch up.

"Are you all right?" Sully asked gently.

Colleen shrugged, not sure which negative emotion she felt most strongly in that very moment. "Why does she gotta keep doin' that?"

Shaking his head, Sully understood exactly what Colleen meant. He gestured towards the barn where they could talk.

**X.O.X**

"I'm sick of it Sully! Ma doin' things she knows she shouldn't be doin'. And then us havin' to pick up the pieces!" Colleen exclaimed once the barn door had closed behind them.

"I know what ya mean, Colleen. It's just ya ma, though. She wants to try and do right by everyone," Sully justified.

"Well it's stupid. She's tryin' to act like this ain't ever happened. She's the one always ends up gettin' hurt." Colleen folded her arms tightly around her waist. "I was really lookin' forward to havin' supper with Lewis tonight. I know it's selfish, I don't care! I want my life back too!" Colleen paced angrily around in circles.

Sully glanced back towards the homestead. "Don't blame ya."

"It's like she's puttin' all this pressure on herself to be the way she was before. As if she thinks she can make it all go away?" Colleen shrugged, trying to grasp the concept.

"Things are different now, and they always will be," Sully replied.

"Well, why's she's fightin' that so hard? Thought once she'd decided to have the baby, she'd take things easy. Take care a herself, all the things she'd be tellin' a patient to do. But she ain't. It's like she thinks nothin's changed." Colleen sat down on a sat of hay.

"Maybe acceptin' the change is harder than ya ma thought it'd be."

"But she chose to keep the baby. Surely she knew what that'd mean?"

"Ya Ma made the choice to give the baby life. Don't mean she's gotta be ready for it to take some of hers. Goes both ways, Colleen. It's a sacrifice at the best of times."

"Don't you think she's bein' selfish?" Colleen frowned.

"It ain't deliberate, Colleen. If she was bein' selfish, she wouldn't a gone out to Snow Bird today," Colleen cut him off sharply.

"See, I think that's exactly what it was! Selfish to me and selfish to that baby!"

"She didn't want you to go out there, Colleen. Now how's that bein' selfish?"

Confused and upset, Colleen chewed on a fingernail, unable to hold back the tears that trickled down her face. "I just wanted to have somethin' to look forward to. To have fun like everyone else gets to."

Sully nodded slowly. "I know, and I want you to go tonight. I'll stay here."

Colleen looked up through bleary eyes, "You mean it?"

"Sure. You just have a good night. Horace's gonna drive ya back, right?" Sully raised an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh," a smile quickly came to Colleen's face.

"Then ya just enjoy yaself." Sully nodded, "Want me to put the horses away?"

Colleen cringed, "Do I gotta ride Flash back to town?"

"You'd rather take the wagon?" Sully was about to push open the barn door.

"I'll meet Brian at school, get him to drive back?" Colleen suggested.

"Sure," he pushed the barn door open.

"Thanks, Sully," Colleen smiled, barely containing her excitement, as she half walked, half skipped back towards the wagon.

**X.O.X**

Sully slowly climbed the steps towards the homestead as he watched Colleen drive off into the distance.

Crossing the porch, he slowly opened the front door, poking his head around it to ensure Michaela was still in bed.

Wolf sat up from his position by the table as Sully entered the room.

"Michaela?" Sully whispered, unsure as to whether or not she was asleep.

A smile came to his lips when there was no reply, Sully quietly taking a seat by her bedside.

He thought back over the events of the day, as well as Colleen's earlier words.

The young girl did have a point.

With a sigh, Sully stood and crossed the room, patting Wolf softly on the head as he walked over to make a pot of tea.

After several minutes of gazing out of the window as the water boiled, Sully turned sharply at the sound of movement across the room.

"Michaela?" he looked over, as she struggled to pull herself into a sitting position.

"Did I hear the wagon?" she pushed back loose strands of hair.

"Colleen went back into town. Makin' tea. Ya want some?" Sully offered, standing in front of the shelves full of crockery.

"Thank-you." Michaela smiled.

"She was real keen to have supper with Lewis." Sully poured the tea into the two fine china cups.

"Yes, I know." Michaela reflected upon her daughter's eagerness that morning during their ride into town.

"Probably good she spends some time with friends, after the last few weeks we've had." Sully brought the cups over, placing them on the table beside the bed.

"We've barely been home a week and it feels as though it's been a month." Michaela sat up further against the pillows, as Sully carefully handed her the hot cup of tea.

"You glad to be home?" he sipped slowly on the tea.

Contemplating her response, Michaela handed him back the cup. "I suppose. I miss Rebecca though," she sighed, looking away.

"She can always come visit," Sully answered.

Michaela met his gaze with a wry smile, "And just where are we going to put her? The barn?"

"She ain't the only one we're gonna have to find room for," he glanced around the homestead thoughtfully. "Any reason Brian can't sleep out in the barn with Matthew?"

Michaela considered his suggestion, "I hadn't thought about it."

"Well, he is gettin' older. Give you and Colleen more privacy." Sully reflected on the recent conversation he'd had with Brian.

"He's only ten," Michaela countered.

"Yeah, but he's growin' up, Michaela." Sully hoped she'd pick up on his nuance.

Michaela frowned, ascertaining the meaning of Sully's words. "He's spoken to you about this?"

Sully nodded, "We've had a few talks. Brian was worried you wouldn't know about 'man-stuff'," a small smile came to his lips.

"Man stuff?" Michaela repeated slowly, the euphemism lost on her.

"Women ain't the only ones who get to have their secrets, ya know," Sully grinned cheekily.

"Sully, he's just a child," Michaela challenged.

"Still, there are things that happen to boys, that it's easier to talk to a man about," he answered gently.

"I see." Michaela became aware of a feeling of disappointment. "I suppose Brian's had quite an education this year."

Sully lowered his gaze. "There were things he didn't understand. Can't blame him for not feelin' comfortable comin' to you," Sully chanced a look in her direction.

"What on earth did you tell him?" her eyes widened in shock.

"The truth, Michaela. Same as you woulda done if it were someone else. He was just havin' trouble appreciatin' the connection between you gettin' hurt and the baby. Couldn't understand why you weren't happy about it."

Sully studied the dismayed expression on her face. "You upset about me speakin' to him?"

"It's not that," she shook her head. "I'm upset that my ten year-old son has to know the atrocities of human nature."

"I know." Sully took another sip of his tea.

Michaela hesitated before doing likewise.

"You feelin' all right?" Sully looked over.

Michaela shook her head, deep in thought.

Sully placed his empty cup on the bedside table. "Michaela?" He tapped her arm lightly.

"Sorry?" She shrugged.

"You feelin' all right?" Sully repeated.

Still deep in thought, she nodded. "You were right. I shouldn't have gone out there today."

"Thought it'd be tough on ya," Sully nodded.

Michaela glanced down at the near-empty cup of tea. "I hoped it would be different. I thought, because I was going out there to help Snow Bird, that I wouldn't think about it."

"We shoulda brought her into town. Woulda been easier," Sully reached over to take the cup from her.

"Not for Snow Bird, it wouldn't." Michaela answered immediately.

Sully frowned, realizing there was something that he needed to make clear to her. "I'm not talking about Snow Bird, Michaela. I'm talking about you."

Michaela shook her head, "But she was the one,"

"Michaela, stop it." Sully cut her off sharply. Sighing, he took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Michaela, I've been wantin' to say this to ya, since the night Jake came out to the homestead. You gotta stop puttin' everyone else first all the time."

"Sully, if someone's ill, then," Michaela blinked in surprise as he cut her off once again.

"Don't say it, Michaela. That was before. You can't keep pushing yourself like you've always done. Ain't good for either of you," Sully saw the understanding creep into Michaela's eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, Sully. That's part of being a doctor. You have to work when you're sick," again he spoke over her.

"But you ain't _sick, _Michaela. This ain't just about you," his voice rose slightly in volume.

"You think I'm being selfish?" she answered directly.

"No," Sully sighed, thinking back to his earlier conversation with Colleen. "Selfish, ain't the right word. I think you've never known anythin' different. You've always been able to focus entirely on doctorin'. Even after Charlotte died, when there was an epidemic, or an emergency, someone else could look after the kids for a few days. Things are different now." Sully dared to look back at her, for a response.

Michaela had fixed her gaze on the collection of photos on the dresser. "I don't want them to be different, Sully," she answered softly.

"I know. But they have to be," he followed her gaze. "It won't be for much longer."

Michaela kept her eyes locked on the photo of her and her father, "So much has changed, Sully. I've changed. I've done so many things this year that I would have condemned someone else for doing."

"Even if they'd been through what you have?"

Michaela lowered her eyes to her hands clasped in front of her.

"About five years ago, a woman came to see my father in a similar situation. I was standing in the room when she asked him to terminate her pregnancy."

"And your father refused." Sully confirmed softly.

"No," she answered directly. "He considered it. I dissuaded him."

"But it's different in Boston. Ain't there chaperones and all that?" Sully countered.

"That's what we could never determine. Her story sounded too horrific to be believed. I convinced father she'd concocted the entire scenario to make him feel sorry for her."

"Did ya find out what happened to her?" Sully asked slowly.

"Yes." Michaela chewed on her lower lip. "A week later, when Father was on duty at the hospital, she was brought in. She died within an hour from a massive internal hemorrhage. When he autopsied her, he found she'd ruptured her uterus trying to perform the abortion herself."

"No matter whether she was telling the truth or not, it's still not the answer. It wasn't your fault, Michaela," Sully supported.

"I used to think that. Now, all I know is, it's the one case father and I disagreed on. Had he aborted the pregnancy, he'd have lost one life. But, because he listened to me, we lost two."

"You did the right thing, Michaela." Sully repeated.

"Then, or now?" she replied cynically.

"Both," he answered firmly.

"I was so naive, Sully. I saw people's actions, imagined myself in the same situation, and made a judgment based upon that; but I hadn't lived their lives. I was making a judgment based on one observable moment. Not on the thousands of events that had led to that moment." Michaela thought back over her recent conversation with Jake. "I didn't understand Jake's drinking until yesterday."

Sully scoffed lightly, "What's to understand? He's a drunk. Has been for years."

"It's the only way he knows to cope with problems. Most of the time, it's worked for him."

"The other night sure didn't, someone coulda got killed." Sully felt the feelings of protectiveness ignite.

Michaela kept her eyes lowered, considering how she felt, "It wasn't his fault Sully. I can't blame him for something he had no conscious control over."

"But if he had? And he done it anyway; without carin' whether he hurt ya or not?" Sully continued the question, knowing it was a subject they had to cover sooner or later.

Michaela suddenly realized that Sully was no longer talking about Jake. "He didn't have a conscience, Sully," she replied bitterly. "I'll never understand what made him the human being he was."

"Well, what if ya could?" Sully spoke carefully. "You know some of what the Cheyenne have seen; murder, torture, even rape, at the hands of the army."

"Our soldiers rape Indian women?" Michaela exhaled slowly, waiting for Sully to look her in the eye.

"For generations, Michaela. Why do you think there are orphanages set up all around the country for mixed blooded children? When the tribes find out about it, the children are shunned, the mothers who won't give them up, expelled from the tribe."

"What happens to them?" Michaela frowned, in disbelief.

"Nothin' good. They can't make it without their tribe; aren't accepted into a white culture. They usually die. The children get sent to orphanages," Sully watched as Michaela took in his words.

Michaela thought back over their conversation, "Where does the cycle of violence end, Sully? If one person uses their own mistreatment as justification for hurting another?"

"It don't end. Been going on for hundreds a years," he paused, a soft smile coming to his lips as he studied her face. "But, part of it ended with you. What you been through, Michaela, and still bein' the good person ya always were. Your decision to keep this child; part a the violence ended with you," Sully watched her gaze move from him, to a corner of her bedspread.

"How do if I know if I'll be able to do this?" Michaela shook her head, keeping her eyes downcast.

"Michaela?" Sully frowned, seeing the hesitance appear on her face.

"Be a mother to his child."

"Your child," Sully replied deliberately.

"It's a delusion, Sully. Truth is, I have no way of knowing if it will be a boy or a girl, and I certainly don't picture this child as it will be. Bonding with an ideal is one thing, but what if I don't love this child?" Michaela admitted softly, the tears moistening her eyes.

"But ya on the right track. Ya just gotta trust that everything will work out," Sully spoke confidently.

"Nothing works out, Sully." Michaela moved her hand up to brush the tears from her eyes.

"All right, so, if you don't feel you can keep this baby, there's other options," Sully tried to keep his voice calm, knowing it was futile discussing this now, but also knowing it was causing Michaela considerable distress.

"None that make me feel any the less guilty," Michaela sighed.

"Well, what if there was people in this town that'd be happy to raise a child," Sully had a possibility in mind, not sure what Michaela's reaction would be.

"Who?" she scoffed.

"Grace an' Robert E." Sully answered without hesitation, watching Michaela's eyes move from her stomach, finally back up to him.

"Don't be ridiculous," she shook her head.

"Michaela, you know Grace wants a baby desperately," Sully countered.

"Yes, and probably one that looks like her and Robert E." Michaela retorted sharply.

"I'd say they know too much about racism to practice it. It's only a suggestion," Sully backed off.

"I don't know if that would be any better. Then I'd only be seeing the child when it was hurt or sick." Michaela returned her gaze to the bedspread.

"Michaela, it's too soon for ya to decide. You don't know how you'll feel in a few months," Sully frowned as she cut him off quickly.

"I don't have to know how I'm going to feel, Sully. I know what that child is going to look like. If I keep it, I'll never be able to go home. I'll be forever explaining its mere existence. This last month will be the rest of my life."

"It didn't bother ya when you were gonna keep the Cowboy's baby," he reminded her gently.

"I didn't care, I had nothing to be ashamed of." Michaela looked away, predicting Sully's objection. "I'm tired of fighting, Sully. Fighting people, fighting bigotry. I, I feel as though I'll never be able to let this go. I don't mean forget, I mean," she refused to look at him, "I've seen the way they look at me, Sully. Most of them don't mean it, but still, I feel like an outcast. I'm tired of being different," Michaela looked up, immediately realizing it a poor choice of words, "I'm tired of being _treated_ differently," she corrected.

"Just give it a bit longer. Few months, it'll go away, I know it." Sully reached across to take her hand.

"Perhaps. Or become worse." Michaela looked down at their interlocked fingers.

"No use frettin' about it now," Sully spoke quickly, changing the subject.

"Did ya wanna have another rest?" Sully watched as Michaela remained deep in thought.

Michaela blinked, taking in his question. "No." She paused. "Sully, thank-you." She squeezed his hand.

Sully smiled softly, as he leant forwards to kiss her forehead. Pulling back, he felt Michaela's hand on his right shoulder.

Carefully bringing his hand up to her cradle her head, Sully drew a quick breath, finding her mouth again and feeling her hand tighten on his shoulder. Continuing the tender kiss, he remembered the last time they shared a moment like this; over a month ago in Boston.

He felt the fine strands of her hair against his fingers, noticing her hand move around to the back of his neck, as she once again felt the bare skin under her fingertips.

Necessity saw the kiss end moments later, Sully watching as Michaela slowly opened her eyes, both breathing heavily.

About to speak, he felt her hand strengthen on his neck, moving forwards into a more energized kiss. Sully felt her lips meet his, with equal force, as her right hand clasped the side of his face.

Each kiss was followed by another of greater duration, Sully bringing his right arm up to her shoulder, fearing he'd lose his balance perched on the edge of the bed.

Michaela let her arm drop from his neck, concerned with pushing away all inhibitions, reminding herself that she had to know. If they were ever going to have a future together; it had to be the future they'd always envisaged.

Moments later, she felt his lips leave hers, opening her eyes with a look of confusion on her face.

"Ya all right?" Sully saw Michaela's peculiar expression.

She nodded immediately, slowly dropping her left hand from his face.

As he moved his hand from her shoulder, she gripped his arm, "It's all, right, Sully. I want this," Michaela barely recognized the sound of her own voice, somewhere between plea and small child.

Sully studied her eyes carefully, running his hand down the length of her long hair.

Michaela watched his eyes, not sure if he'd understood what she'd said, when she felt his lips on the side of her neck, slowly, softly, working his way up towards her mouth.

_Rebecca was right, it doesn't compare._

Sully felt her hands grasp his shoulders, as he continued trailing tender kisses from her neck, to her mouth, and along her jaw line.

Sensing the passion and care behind each touch of his lips upon her skin, Michaela dropped her head back against the pillows, feeling his fingers against her arm and shoulder.

_I want this. _Michaela reminded herself, feeling a shiver run through her body just realizing how different it was to enjoy being touched.

Opening her eyes just as his lips arrived back to her mouth, she fuelled the kiss as openly as he had, feeling her teeth slide over his lower lip.

By this stage, Michaela's breathing had risen to her shoulders, both opening their eyes simultaneously as their mouths lost one another.

Sully watched her intently, a relaxed smile on his face.

_I have to know. _Michaela didn't process the impulse, before she had reached for his hand and brought it to her breast. This time, she kept her eyes wide open, their gazes fused together as she drew a long, steadying breath.

Sully, not having time to react, now felt his mind reeling.

_What is she doing? _He forced himself to maintain an outwardly calm expression, although struggling as he checked to see if his hand was actually where he thought it was.

He kept his hand motionless, as he felt the firmness of her breast, eyes remaining locked with hers as he slowly moved his fingers.

_It's Sully._

Michaela heard the two words repeating in her mind, feeling every miniscule movement of his hand against her. Ever so slowly, his finger tips moved from the top of her chest, down, and around, until his hand stopped, fingers brushing over the bottom of her breast, leaving his hand against her lower ribcage.

His eyes darted between hers, before both mutually moved their heads together, mouths meeting instinctively in a more heated kiss.

Able to feel the expansion of her ribs under his hand, and the fluidity of her kiss, Sully knew something felt different; as the moment endured, he felt for the first time since he'd held her over four months ago, that nothing had changed.

Sully continued the kiss, slowly moving his mouth from hers and down her chin, as he tentatively brought his left hand to her upper chest. Somewhat ill-prepared for how nervous he was going to feel, Sully reminded himself that chances were, he was probably dealing with far less emotion at that moment than Michaela was, and tenderly completed a line of kisses along her jaw line, feeling the fullness of her breast cupped in his left hand.

Michaela blinked, her attention absorbed in the sensation of his soft lips against her skin. She knew she trusted him completely in that moment, allowing the pure relief to wash over her.

Sully smiled, seeing her mouth relax as he brought his hand to the back of her head, kissing all the way up to her ear. "I love you," the words slipped almost inaudibly from his mouth.

Michaela felt her breath catch in her throat at the sound of his voice. Turning her head, she caught his mouth with her own, her hands finding his upper arms and drawing him closer to her.

Sully dropped his hands from her head, resting them on the pillows behind her, feeling her chest against his, as he realized there was one potential logistical problem.

Sully pulled back against her hand, seeing the rejection sweep across her face instantaneously.

"Sully?" she removed her right hand from his shoulder, "It's all right, isn't it?"

"Long as I ain't squashing anyone, it's fine," he chuckled, seeing her face melt into a relieved smile as she moved over, giving him more room next to her.

"She happens to be incredibly resilient," Michaela answered.

"Like her Ma," Sully nodded, leaning forwards to kiss Michaela's nose softly.

Michaela reflected on their spoken words, realizing the depth of truth to both. "It's some comfort to know I wasn't the only one who went into this without a choice," she was jolted from the thought at the feeling of Sully's hand on her abdomen.

Sully frowned, seeing the awkward expression on her face. Bringing his mouth down to hover over hers, he studied her eyes, waiting until he felt her mouth move against his lips before he commenced the kiss. Keeping his right hand firmly against her stomach, he moved his lips along her mouth, and down to her jaw.

Michaela tried to understand the heavy emotion she'd felt at his touch. He'd never touched her stomach before, and without being able to describe it, it felt more personal than kissing, or him touching her breasts. _It's not his child, Michaela – and kissing him, being with him, will never make it so. _She drew a breath, feeling his lips continue to move along her skin. She sensed the emotion connected with her thoughts; an indescribable regret.

Bringing her arms to the back of his neck, Michaela ran her fingers along the silky edge of his hairline. Distracted from the sensation, she felt his mouth move down her neck, her skin tingling against the contact.

"Ya all right?" he looked up, seeing her eyes softly close. A smile broadened on his lips, at the serenity on her face.

Opening her eyes in response to his voice, she nodded slowly, wondering just how far she was going to be able push herself.

"Sully," she saw his eyes lock immediately with hers, "I have to know if I can do this," she blinked, hoping he'd understand her words.

"Ya doin' fine," he replied with complete confidence.

Dropping her gaze momentarily from his face, Michaela looked between his hand on her abdomen, and the buttons on her green blouse.

Sully kept his left hand on the pillow behind her head, swallowing as he saw her hand move to the first button. Blinking, he returned his eyes to hers, reaching his hand up to cover her own, feeling the button between his fingers.

Michaela focused on her breathing, sensing her teeth brush over her lip as he undid the first button, followed by the second.

Finding it increasing difficult to maintain eye contact without blinking, she sighed when she saw his head drop to her neck. Feeling his lips against her skin again, Michaela allowed her eyes to fall closed.

He could hear her breathing as he slowly moved his hand to the fourth button. Pausing, he moved his head forwards to kiss the side of her mouth. His fingers found the fifth button, gently pulling the blouse from the waistband of her dark green skirt.

Feeling the air meet her exposed flesh, Michaela opened her eyes, recognizing her surroundings immediately. Sully looked up to her face, seeing the momentary hesitation cross her face.

"Hey?" he smiled, reaching up to touch the side of her neck.

Michaela sat up, and carefully slipped the green blouse from her arms.

Sully studied her determined expression, waiting until she'd placed the blouse by her side before moving his hand back to her jaw, precisely finding the corner of her mouth with his lips.

With his hand on her bare shoulder, Michaela felt her apprehension return. _I'm in control of this; it's Sully. If I tell him to stop, he will. _She felt the nervousness dissipate, focusing on returning his kisses with equal commitment.

Sully looked down, caught off guard when he felt her hand on the button of his shirt. Looking up at the same moment, Michaela tilted her head in confusion at the surprise on his face.

He paused, knowing that removing his shirt would require an explanation that he wasn't sure he was ready to give; although, seeing the awkwardness in Michaela's eyes, knew he had to face it.

"Here," he took her hand, placing it down by the bed, quickly pulling his shirt over his head and letting it drop to the floor below.

Looking back to her, Sully saw her concerned expression.

Drawing a worried breath, he quickly moved his arm to her shoulders.

"Sully? Those scars weren't from the fall," Michaela's voice was hollow.

"No," he sighed, interlocking his fingers with hers. "Michaela, I gotta explain something to ya."


	102. Chapter 102

**Chapter 102**

Michaela looked down at their interlocked fingers, across to his bare chest, remembering all too clearly the last time they'd been this close.

"When, when you experience a great loss, you gotta atone for that; through your own physical suffering." Sully saw her frown, trying to understand.

"Because of me?" she spoke slowly, comprehension gradually dawning.

He nodded, "I saw it, Michaela," he sighed, looking away, "I was out at the camp with Cloud Dancin'. I saw where it happened."

Michaela felt he eyes glaze over, unexpectedly remembering more than she cared to. "You did that to yourself?"

Sully nodded, keeping his eyes locked with hers. "The physical scars remind us of the depth of the emotional pain," he whispered, seeing Michaela's eyes glisten with tears.

"You're right," she dropped her hand from his chest, looking up as she felt his fingers move through her hair. "Why were you there?" she studied his downcast eyes.

Carefully, Sully moved the strands of hair behind her right ear.

"Went out to talk to Cloud Dancin', day you went home with the children. Had to tell him they weren't welcome 'round town. The dog soldier's wives had to return to the campsite; lay the bodies to rest. I chose to go with them," Sully replied crisply, predicting her next question, "I had to know he was dead."

Michaela kept her eyes closed as she felt his arms encircle her shoulders. Opening her eyes for a moment, she nestled her head against his chest, feeling his lips on the top of her head.

As she felt his hands move along her shoulders and upper arms, Michaela tried to imagine what the future would hold. Would it ever feel normal again?

Sully felt Michaela's fingertips glide over his back and shoulder blades as he completed a trail of kisses along her neck. Moving his way up to her mouth, Sully sensed that the distance between them had disappeared, as he felt his chest against her chemise.

He'd been fighting the physical sensations that had been stirring in him for the last five minutes, knowing that this wasn't about him; that it was for Michaela. Sully knew he never expected anything of her, however had little control over the effect her touch was having on him.

As he felt Michaela's lips against his own, Sully pulled back slightly, placing his hands gently on her shoulders.

A concerned look appeared immediately on her face in respond to his actions.

"I was just wondering if ya all right with this?" he asked awkwardly, knowing it was not what he really wanted to ask, but hoping she'd at least fill in the blanks.

She nodded slowly, letting her breath drop from her shoulders, "I needed to know. I was worried I wouldn't be able to be with you," she trailed off seeing the reassuring smile on his face.

"Michaela, I don't expect you to," he cradled the back of her head.

"I could never marry you, Sully, and not be your wife," she remembered back to her conversations with both Rebecca and Colleen.

Sully studied her eyes carefully, appreciating the intimacy of what they were discussing; admiring more, Michaela's courage to discuss it.

"Colleen told me about the talk you had, if that's what this is about. And I'll tell you the same thing I told her; marriage is about the spiritual connection you have," he dropped his hand tenderly to the left side of her chest. "Marriage is the road that you take as a couple and we've already started that journey. And no matter what happens, married or not, I'll always be here." He moved his head forward to kiss her forehead softly.

Michaela felt his lips on her forehead, taking in his words, "It hurts so much that this has ruined everything," Michaela reached forward to grasp his hand. "It was supposed to be something I gave to you."

Sully saw her eyes drop, immediately moving forward to catch her chin with his hand, "Michaela, you're the only thing I could ever want."

She had no choice but to keep her eyes locked to his, "It doesn't bother you at all?"

Sully didn't even blink, "I'm just sorry it caused you so much pain; destroyed something that is supposed to be beautiful. It's supposed to be about love, not fear." He looked down to see her hand on his chest.

"I'm not afraid of being with you. I trust you, Sully," Michaela couldn't deny the apprehension building within her; but she knew it wasn't fear.

Sully slowly reached for her hand, placing delicate, drawn-out kisses along it, traveling up her arm, arriving to her shoulder, all the while considering her words. Catching a wisp of her hair in his fingers, he looked up, mouth only inches from hers. "Michaela, you sure this is what you want?"

Appreciating the seriousness of the moment, she drew a deep breath, eyes moving between his focused gaze. "Yes," she replied quickly, without allowing herself to think it through further.

Sully nodded slowly, feeling an incredible responsibility dawn on him; this wasn't about him, he knew that. But he also knew Michaela was entrusting him with herself. A trust that she had found difficult enough six months ago, let alone after having endured a violation of body and soul.

He felt his fingers glide over her right arm and shoulder, "If you decide you don't wanna do this, if ya not ready, at any time, you just gotta tell me."

Michaela drew a breath, slowing nodding her head in response to his words.

Sully moved his mouth up to hers, feeling the tenderness in each movement of her lips against his.

Feeling his kisses deepen, Michaela moved her right hand to his shoulder, wondering what the next step would be, when she felt Sully's hand on her chemise strap. Carefully moving into an upright position, Michaela reached down to loosen the undergarment from her skirt. As she did she felt Sully's hands against her own, looking deep into his eyes, as she felt the material move up over her stomach and torso.

Feeling his hands against her bare skin, Michaela kept her eyes locked with his, willing the anxiety to end.

Sully edged the garment further up her body, aware of the softness of her skin underneath. Raising an eyebrow to gauge her reaction, Sully carefully pulled the white material over her head, looking back to find her face as he let the item drop to the bed bedside them.

He smiled softly, seeing the concentration on Michaela's face, as he felt her hand on his arm. Reaching to interlock his fingers with hers, Sully moved towards her, planting a small kiss on the side of her mouth, deepening it only when he felt her lips moved under his.

Michaela's eyes dropped closed, feeling their hands locked, as his mouth moved against hers. About to wonder what was going to happen next, she felt Sully move closer to her, immediately realizing his chest was now pressed gently again her own.

She pulled her hand from his, instead moving it along his shoulder and upper arm, as he pressed tiny kisses into her jaw and neck. Focusing on the sensation of his arm against her fingers, Michaela drew a breath as she felt his hand along her left breast. She let the breath out softly, aware of his fingers against her flesh, as he supported its fullness in his hand.

Looking up towards his face, Michaela saw the softness in his eyes. Sully appreciated all too well, the trust that she had placed in him.

Dropping her eyes closed at the sensation of his fingertips against her nipple, Michaela realized her breathing had slowed. His touch was so gentle, so reverent. Slowly, he moved his hand up to her shoulder, fingers gliding over her skin, as their mouths met in an unhurried kiss.

For the first time since she initiated the intimacy, Michaela could distinguish guilt from apprehension. As she felt the sensation on his hand on her chest, his lips against her own, she couldn't ignore the reality that she was edging her way closer and closer to an action she'd been brought up to believe was sinful.

"Sully?" she opened her eyes as he pulled his head away. "You don't think this is inappropriate do you?" she blinked.

Sully frowned, considering her moral dilemma, "Course I don't but I understand if ya wanna wait."

She cut him off sharply, "But then how do I know? If I marry you and then I, I." she drew a panicked breath, feeling emotion and upbringing tugging backwards and forwards.

"Ssh, relax, ain't something ya gotta decide right this instant," he moved beside her, carefully slipping his left arm around her back. "Michaela, all that matters is that you're bein' honest with yaself, nothin' else. And, after everything ya been through, I understand why this is so important to you but I don't want you to put all this pressure on yaself. It can wait," he smiled placing a tender kiss on her forehead.

"No, it can't. I couldn't stand having to go through the next four or five months not knowing. I need to be able to see a future for us Sully, it's the only way I'll ever have my life back." Michaela dropped her eyes closed, "and I've defied so many conventions, it seems rather trivial," she shrugged, seeing the confident smile appear on Sully's face.

"Ain't about convincin' me, Michaela. I just don't want you regrettin' nothin'," Sully spoke quietly.

"Sully, there are so many things I regret, that I have absolutely no control over and there's nothing I'd regret more than marrying you without believing in our future," she watched his bright blue eyes move over her face.

"Then, I wanna ask ya somethin'," he took a breath, feeling the words slip easily from his mouth, "Whether we go through with this or not, I want to marry you, Michaela," he smiled, seeing the seriousness of his statement dawn on her face.

"Sully," her jaw dropped.

"I understand what it means to ya and you're right, time is gonna change a lot a things. But there's still a lot in our control." He paused, giving her time to comprehend his words. "Will you marry me, Michaela?" Sully brought his hand to the right side of her face, their eyes locking for what felt like eternity.

Michaela felt her breath collect in her throat, her heart already having given an answer, however her mind knowing it still depended on one thing, "Only if I can be your wife, Sully."

He smiled at her stubbornness, knowing when her mind was made up. "All right," he leaned forwards to kiss the side of her mouth, appreciating the significance of what had just been said.

Michaela moved her mouth to his lips, the words of his proposal quietening the apprehension she'd been struggling with.

As he moved his hands delicately over her body, their kisses strengthening, Sully was forced to consider just how this was going to be accomplished. He thought back over the times he'd been with Abigail when she was pregnant, never having felt as nervous as he did at this exact moment.

"Sully?" Michaela felt the spontaneity disappear, opening her eyes to see the hesitant look on his face.

"This ain't dangerous or nothin'?" he drew a breath, "With the baby?"

Michaela smiled, bringing her hand to the back of his neck, "it's perfectly fine."

Sully nodded, dropping his head to her right shoulder and placing half a dozen precise kisses against her skin.

Michaela felt her head drop back to the pillows behind her, her skin tingling at the sensation of his lips against her flesh. Just beginning to wonder how events would process, she felt his hand move along her lower leg, under her skirt to her left knee.

Delicately, he removed her stocking, his fingertips sliding over her exposed skin. Focussing all her attention on the softness of his touch, Michaela waited until he'd removed both stockings, before she leant forwards to unclasp the back of her green skirt.

Sully looked up, in awe of her courage and determination. "Here," he reached for her right hand, standing from the side of the bed, and helping her to her feet.

Seeing the momentary confusion appear on her face, Sully brought his lips to hers, "trust me," he whispered, deepening the kiss as he slowly reached his hands around to free her skirt.

Michaela felt the garment slide over her stomach and hips, as Sully ended the kiss.

As she felt the softness of the mattress underneath her, Michaela remembered the words they'd spoken moments earlier.

_Are we engaged?_

"Hey?" Sully saw the vacant expression on her face.

Michaela shook her head, dismissing the thoughts, as she cupped her left hand around his shoulder and pulled him closer, until they were side by side in the middle of the bed.

Sully slowly initiated a lighter kiss, their lips touching only briefly before he moved his mouth along her jawline, down her neck and to her right shoulder.

Michaela felt his lips against her skin, her breathing quicken as his mouth continued towards her chest, unable to stop the thoughts forming in her mind.

_Breathe, just breathe. It's Sully, remember?_

She felt his lips glide over her breast, opening her eyes for a moment, comforted by his short brown hair. Michaela blinked as she felt his hand on the waistband of her bloomers, closing her eyes as he placed the first kiss on her stomach, carefully edging the waistband lower as he ran his fingers over her firm flesh.

_It's all right, deep breath. _Michaela pushed the nervousness and doubt away, opening her eyes to his face above her, mouths meeting in a more energized kiss.

As his lips slid over her own, Michaela felt him tentatively inch the waistband of her bloomers further over her enlarged abdomen.

"Sully," she pulled away slightly from the kiss, touching his chest for a moment, before negotiating the bloomers over her stomach and hips, pushing them down her legs before hesitation had a chance to voice itself.

Sully slowly allowed his gaze to move from her face, down over her chest, seeing the fullness of her rounded abdomen.

He ran his hand over her hair, kissing the side of her face, his voice impossibly low, "I love you," he trailed kisses down to her mouth, carefully moving closer to her, running his right hand over her stomach.

Michaela breathed deeply, a smile creeping onto her face as she felt the baby move against his hand.

Sully chuckled, keeping his hand still as he appreciated the beauty of the present moment. Feeling the baby's movements settle, he looked back up to Michaela, noticing the single tear that had trickled down her cheek.

Engulfing her shoulders with his hands, Sully frowned, eyes moving over her face with concern.

"I know I can't change what this child will be, but I wish I could," she spoke delicately, her voice so thin it almost cracked.

"Just gotta focus on her being your daughter, Michaela. Nothing else'll matter, I promise," he ran his hand over her cheek, feeling the coolness of the tear under his fingers.

"I know. But what if it's not a girl. Gender aside, this baby will never be," she stopped, realizing the thought was only making her feel more miserable.

"She'll never be white," Sully nodded in understanding, running his hand along Michaela's arm.

Michaela shook her head, waiting until he was looking directly at her, "She will never be yours."

Sully's felt the pain spread over his chest, as he kissed Michaela's cheek as softly as he could. "Yes she will," he corrected.

Michaela felt the significance of his statement flood over her like a cold rain, as she studied his gaze intently.

"When we're married; she'll have a Ma and Pa," Sully felt Michaela's hand on his upper arm, lowering his head to meet her mouth with his lips.

No further words needed to be spoken; Michaela could feel his sincerity with each touch of his lips; his fingers against her skin.

Drawing a replenishing breath, Sully moved his right hand to her knee, slowly gliding his fingers along the outside of her thigh, keeping his eyes locked with hers the entire time.

Michaela felt her apprehension combine with complete trust; reaching her hand to the back of his neck as she initiated another kiss.

As his lips moved against hers, his fingertips against her thigh, Sully felt his body fighting for control over his mind; remembering he was the only one with any clothing left on. "Michaela," he opened his eyes, his mouth less than an inch from hers, "you sure this is all right?"

Tightening her hand around the back of his neck, she pulled him back into a fierce kiss, answering his question with more passion than she'd known she possessed.

Sully moved his hand back to her knee, about to break the kiss when he felt her leg moved under his grasp. Despite increasing physical discomfort, Sully renewed the kiss, tenderly edging his fingertips along the inside of her left thigh.

Michaela felt the movements of his hand amplify in her mind; fighting intense apprehension, whilst at the same time trying to focus on his lips against her own.

Sully opened his eyes as he felt the kiss reached a natural conclusion, their gazes locking as he touched her for the first time.

Michaela felt her eyes drop.

"Michaela, look at me," he whispered, knowing it was the one way she'd minimize the chance of past memories overwhelming her.

She opened her eyes, blinking as she held his gaze, having no other option than to process the sensations of his fingers against her.

As slowly as he could, Sully moved his fingers against her; his mind suddenly realizing just how far off they had become from a cup of tea and a chat. Drawing a nervous breath, fighting both his own arousal and the responsibility she'd placed in him, Sully kept his movements slow and light.

Michaela gradually felt her breathing settle. Reminding herself that she trusted him with her life, she felt her thighs part.

Time passed impossibly slowly, each feeling every movement that was made, Sully ending the exploration as their mouths met.

"How ya doin'?" he spoke, as nervous about having to shed his buckskins as he was about the end result.

Michaela nodded, forcing the breath from her throat. "I'm fine, Sully."

He paused, waiting until he knew she understood what the next step needed to be, before reaching for the button on his buckskins.

Michaela kept her eyes locked on his face, as if imprinting his identity to her mind, as he slowly slipped the trousers from his legs and dropped them to the floor.

"Michaela, anytime this is too uncomfortable, just gotta say," Sully reached for her upper arm as he laid back beside her.

She nodded again, feeling him next to her, as she moved her hand along his chest. "I'd be fooling myself if I thought this wasn't going to be uncomfortable wouldn't I?" Michaela smiled, noticing the scars once again over his heart.

Sully comprehended her words, as he brushed his fingers along her upper arms, seeking out her lower lip and feeling her return the kiss with equal commitment.

Michaela was far away aware of her mouth against his, when she felt his hand return to her thigh. She kept her eyes closed, as his fingers once again traveled along her delicate skin, touching her with a patience she never knew a man could possess.

Opening her eyes as she felt him end the kiss, Michaela blinked at the unexpected shift in weight, as he moved his hands to the pillow either side of her head.

"Look at me," he smiled, seeing her slightly lost and apprehensive expression.

She met his gaze automatically, not daring to blink as he secured his hand on her left knee, feeling her leg shift as he moved into a kneeling position over her.

Michaela saw his eyes flicker, knowing he was probably more nervous at that moment than she was, "I trust you," she repeated calmly, focusing more of her mental energy on reminding herself of where she was and who she was with, than in the realization of just exactly what they were doing.

Sully saw comprehension dawn on her, as he supporting his weight in his hands either side of her.

Michaela clenched her jaw tightly, desperate to stop it trembling and revealing her fear.

Sully gently brought himself to touch her, noticing the speed at which her eyes closed. His face dropped, seeing the braced expression on her face. "Michaela," he whispered, carefully bringing a hand to stroke the side of her face until she slowly opened her eyes. "Ya gotta look at me. I won't hurt you, I promise," he spoke quietly, not sure how much of what he was saying was actually being heard.

Seeing the calmness of his eyes, Michaela heard his final statement, and slowly allowed herself another breath.

Sully smiled, waiting until her face had softened, before he leant down to find her mouth. The kiss now comfortable and relaxed, Sully moved forwards. He kept her eyes locked in his gaze, ending the kiss as the space between them reduced.

Michaela could feel the firmness of him against her; focusing on her breathing as she felt him push gently closer. She moved her fingertips over the edge of his hairline, desperate for any competing sensation.

As she struggled to ignore his movements, Michaela fought the barrage of questions which flooded her consciousness. Unconsciously her expression dropped into a concentrated frown.

_Oh my God, what am I doing?_

Sully paused, seeing the apprehension creep onto her face. Fighting himself, he drew a calming breath, pulling away and touching her shoulder softly. "Michaela, it's all right. It's probably too soon," he carefully moved to her right side.

"It's not that," she inhaled sharply, trying unsuccessfully to stop the tears clouding her eyes.

Sully shook his head, merely stroking her arm tenderly as she struggled to put her thoughts into words.

"I just want it to be over, it's the apprehension I can't bear. It's the same as it always was, except I don't care anymore." Michaela reached for the quilt as Sully brought it up over them.

"Just relax," he soothed, kissing her temple softly. "Take it one step at a time," Sully whispered, securing his left arm around her back.

"Anything else botherin' ya?" he smiled, dropping his hand to the bed.

She lowered her gaze to the patchwork quilt under her hands. "No, I just want to get through this," Michaela spoke with quiet determination.

Sully nodded, his heart aching at the anguish on her face. "You will."

Michaela felt his hand clasp her right shoulder, turning her head instinctively as she felt his lips against her own. As the kiss endured, Sully slowly brought his right hand to her left shoulder, bringing her into a closer embrace.

Aware of the tenderness of her skin as he brought his lips along her neck, Sully moved his hand down her arm, slowly moving the quilt aside

Michaela felt his fingertips glide over her skin, the kiss ending as his hand came to rest softly against her thigh.

"Sully," she set her jaw firm, seeing him look to her immediately. "I want this. For so many reasons; for us to have a future, to be free of the past. I just want you to know that, no matter how awkward it seems." She saw the frown appear on his face, "Please, Sully. I, I don't expect this to be easy for either of us, but I promise you it's what I want."

Sully felt the smile of incredible admiration come to his lips. "One step at a time, remember," he kissed her cheek.

Michaela kept her eyes locked with his, as she felt his hand move along the inside of her left thigh. Her eyes dropping, he moved his left arm around her back.

"Michaela, breathe," he spoke softly, as he pulled her to his chest. Feeling her relax under his touch, Sully brought his right hand further along the inside of her thigh, knowing he would have to take things very slowly in order to be successful.

She could sense every movement of his fingers against her, her breathing pausing with each new sensation, until she pushed the air from her lungs and focused again on his reassuring expression.

Sully concentrated, forcing himself to ignore his own physical desires, as he moved his fingertips against her indescribably supple flesh.

Michaela's breathing gradually slowed, apprehension dissipating with Sully's tender movements. Feeling her chest rise and fall, she waited for the next step.

_Why is he doing this? Surely it would be quicker to just get it over with. _Michaela felt her breath catch in her throat as his movements changed unexpectedly.

His touch was stronger; his exploration more intimate.

Sully smiled at the slightly confused look on her face, appreciating Michaela's education concerning such acts was probably quite one-sided and male-dominated.

"This is as much about you as is it about me," he whispered, bringing his lips around her ear and along her jawline until he felt her mouth against his own.

Michaela heard his words clearly, however struggled to comprehend them, in conjunction with the physical sensations she was receiving.

Sully dropped his eyes closed as the kiss endured, feeling his fingertips glide over her in more intimate ways than he knew she'd ever experienced.

Apprehension slowly fading, Michaela now fought the uncertainty of his intentions; no longer confident of exactly what was happening.

_Is this what he meant all along? About taking it one step at a time? _She sighed, feeling her weight press more comfortably against him.

Sully opened his eyes as he kissed her forehead tenderly.

He studied the placid expression on her face, her eyes downcast, yet open.

Michaela felt his movements change once again, not realizing quite how until she realized he had entered her. She kept her eyes fixed on the fine hairs covering the top of his chest, knowing she had only to breathe, remain calm and trust.

She knew she trusted him.

Feeling his mouth brush over her forehead, Michaela brought her left hand to his chest, comforted by the softness of his skin and warmth of his body heat.

Sully smiled, looking down at her delicate fingers against his body.

He held her closer against him, knowing that this was something he couldn't rush; as they had earlier, if it was going to be tolerable for her, they had to take it slowly.

Gently moving his fingers within her, he hadn't expected the sadness to engulf him; not understanding how any man could hurt a woman in such a way. Swallowing, he pushed the thought from his mind, focusing more fully on the softness of her against him; the emotion was almost overpowering.

Glancing down at her face for reassurance, Sully kissed the top of her head, slowly moving his hand, careful to make any movements small and predictable.

Michaela felt him withdraw, keeping her breathing just as even, as she looked up hesitantly.

"I love you," Sully found her mouth with his lips, kissing her passionately, as he carefully moved her from his chest onto her back.

Michaela heard his statement repeat in her mind, echoing as she felt him reposition himself over her. As she moved her legs apart, she felt the apprehension return.

"Michaela, it's just another step. Breathe," he caught her gaze with a reassuring smile, supporting his weight on his knees as he ran his fingers along her shoulder and down her arm.

She nodded, looking down as his mouth drew slowly towards her own.

Sully kept the kiss long, as his hand slid over her stomach and hip. He renewed the kiss as his fingers arrived against her, strengthening his touch.

Michaela had been consumed by the sensation of his mouth against her own, when she felt a cool shiver run over her at the directness of his touch.

She felt nervous, but something told her it wasn't a bad feeling. Michaela was aware of every detailed stroke of his fingers, his movement increasing in both pressure and speed.

Relaxing her head back against the pillow, Michaela opened her eyes when he ended the kiss. She saw the calm expression on his face, as he continued touching her. Michaela focused on the deep blue of Sully's eyes as she felt him bring himself to her.

Blinking and taking a long breath, she felt him guide himself against her, his movements precise and unhurried.

Distracted by the sensation of his hand against her stomach, she looked up just as she felt him slip inside her.

The breath left her throat as she felt the momentary discomfort dissolve into a trust she could not explain. As she felt him fill her, she noticed the tears blur her vision. Blinking them away, she reached a hand to his face, an emotional smile slowly broadening.

Moving over her, Sully kept his weight balanced between his hands, kissing the corner of her mouth, realizing she was crying and smiling at the same time.

Taking a controlled breath, Sully waited until she'd opened her eyes.

"It's all right," she murmured, trying to fight the plethora of sensations and emotions competing for her attention.

Sully nodded, remaining perfectly still as she touched his temple with her left hand.

"Thank-you," Michaela uttered the simple words, blinking against the tears which seemed to stream from her eyes.

Sully kissed her mouth firmly, keeping his eyes locked with hers as he moved slightly deeper within her. "Never have to thank me," he smiled, supporting his weight carefully in his hands either side of her.

Michaela felt her breathing deepen, allowing the pure relief to wash over her.

Hesitantly, he moved closer against her, feeling the firmness of her stomach against his abdomen. Only then, did Sully remember everything that had just happened. Allowing his focus to return to his own body, he became aware of the increasing feelings of pleasure building within him.

As he moved into a gentle rhythm, Michaela felt her head being pushed back further into the pillows as he trailed kisses along her mouth and neck.

Dropping her eyes closed, Michaela indulged in the softness of his lips against her flesh, as she felt him moving more strongly within her. Trying to distract herself from focusing on the sensation, she realized she was simply becoming more aware of past memories resurfacing.

Feeling her teeth grasp her lower lip, Michaela centered all her attention on Sully's face.

_I can do this. It's Sully. Nothing bad is going to happen._

Sully felt the beads of sweat trickle down his back, barely believing what was actually taking place. Sighing, and drawing a much-needed breath, Sully lifted his head from her neck and opened his eyes.

Immediately, he noticed the expression on Michaela's face. Her eyes were downcast, her lower lip caught tightly between her teeth.

His blood running cold at the feeling of selfishness and regret, Sully pulled away from her, a small smile coming to his face as she looked up at him.

"What's wrong?" Michaela asked softly, as he settled by her left side, sliding an arm around her back and drawing her to his chest.

"Nothin'," Sully leaned over to kiss the side of her mouth. "Just didn't wanna hurt ya or nothin'," he smiled reassuringly.

"But you," Michaela stopped when she felt his finger against her lips.

"It's fine, Michaela." Sully kissed her cheek. "It's just the beginning. Takes time for a couple to get to know each other."

Michaela nodded, resting her head on his chest.

"Anyway, it's more important that it was all right for you," Sully stroked her hair back from her face.

Swallowing, Michaela nodded. "It was."

"It didn't hurt, did it?" Sully asked immediately.

"No," she replied instantly.

Sully watched the awkward expression cross Michaela's face. Catching her eyes, he held her gaze until she responded.

"It was just difficult not to think about it," she eventually muttered.

"Michaela, it's going to take a long time for you to feel comfortable. That's all right. I don't want you to think you have to pretend that everything's fine. I meant what I said; we can take things slowly. Work at it," Sully glided his fingertips along her arm.

"What did I do wrong?" Michaela looked up at him, the disappointment obvious in her tone.

"Listen to me," Sully frowned, looking at her directly. "You didn't do anything wrong. Stop blamin' yourself. You gotta understand; this isn't just about me. This is something we both share as a couple. And I wasn't going to put you through somethin' you weren't comfortable with."

"It wasn't as bad as I expected," Michaela reflected, "and I needed to know I could do it."

"Well now ya know." He kissed her forehead precisely. "And it's just the beginning. Things'll get better, I promise. Michaela, is marriage what you want?"

"Yes," she answered immediately. "It feels strange to be pregnant and," Michaela redirected her sentence quickly, "I don't mean that's the only reason, I, I know you're the person I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with. If it weren't for the baby I'd probably wait a while longer, but I'm sick of having to justify it, Sully."

"I know," he squeezed her hand softly.

"Sully, are you sure I'm the person you want to marry?" Michaela sighed. "You're not doing this just because,"

"Always been sure," he smiled, cutting her off sharply. "Since the first time I told ya I loved ya."

Michaela dropped her eyes closed slowly as she felt his lips on her mouth.

"The kids'll be excited." Sully rested his head back on the pillow.

"Shall we tell them tonight?" Michaela asked.

"Sure. What about everyone else?" Sully continued.

Michaela frowned, "I don't think I want everyone knowing, Sully. I'd rather it just be family."

"Up to you. You gonna tell Rebecca?" Sully replied.

"Afterwards. I meant, just our family. The children," Michaela clarified.

"So just somethin' quiet?" Sully nodded, not being one for pomp and ceremony at the best of times.

"Exactly. We'll need witnesses though. But apart from that, nothing elaborate. I've got the outfits from Boston that Rebecca bought me. One of those will be fine."

"Michaela, you sure you'll be happy with that? Don't want you feelin' like you have to settle."

"It's not that, Sully." Michaela shook her head. "I've had enough attention the last six months. As you said, marriage is about the relationship between two people. It's not about the ceremony. I just want my life to resemble normality for a while." Michaela tried to understand herself what she really meant.

Sully nodded, with a slight chuckle, "well, we can get married tomorrow if ya want?"

Shaking her head with a smile, Michaela considered his statement, "Perhaps not quite tomorrow, but, there isn't any reason to wait, is there?"

"Nope," Sully shrugged, "Long as Loren's got some weddin' rings in stock," he kissed her temple delicately.

Michaela focused her attention on the roof above her, "Sully, I didn't think, I'm sorry. You wouldn't want to live here again."

"It's fine, Michaela. I think of this place as yours and the children's now, anyway. I just want you to be sure you're doing this for you, because it'll give you hope. Not coz you're worried about people," Sully spoke seriously.

"Colleen was right, Sully. The only thing stopping me from marrying you was my own fear," she paused, lowering her voice, "Did you mean what you said? You could really love this baby as your own?" she swallowed.

"Promise," Sully answered strongly.

She sighed, reflecting on all that her life had been, "Sully, I never thought I'd be with someone until I was married; I never thought I'd be pregnant until I was married. I think I owe it to this child to at least be married when she comes into the world."


	103. Chapter 103

**Chapter 103**

Sully smiled softly, pulling her against his shoulder and kissing the top of her head.

Michaela felt the warmth of his body against hers, snuggled cozily under the bedclothes. "Sully, do you think it is wrong? What we've done?"

"No," he replied without a moment's hesitation.

"I can't help but turn back the clock. If I'd known things were going to turn out this way; what would I have done differently? I can't imagine Colleen having to endure something like this and never being able to tell me," she paused, "I'm closer to her than my mother ever was to me," Michaela felt his fingers interlock with her own.

Sully nodded, thinking back to their time in Boston. "Michaela, suppose you did tell your mother. What is the worst that could happen, all things considered?" he shrugged, honestly not knowing how that could compare with what they had coped with over the last six months.

"At first, I feared being ostracized from the family. I know that would never happen now, but in all honesty, I'd never expect her to withstand such shame."

"That ain't something I'll ever understand about the East. Explain to me how you surviving a threat to your life, brings shame upon anyone?" he asked in a genuinely baffled tone.

"Because I survived," she shrugged, "I don't agree with it either Sully, it's just the way we were brought up. But it's not the same here. I can't expect Mother to understand that, and at her age, I'd never put her through it," Michaela reasoned.

"Rebecca understood. And I think your mother would be more understandin' than you'd expect," Sully saw the small shrug of consideration.

"I don't know if it's a risk I'm willing to take. It's enough for me to accept how my life has turned out. How do I trust those who couldn't possibly understand?"

"Michaela, can you name one person, who, once in possession of all the facts, did not understand?" Sully saw her eyes drop down.

"Even William understood in the end," she acknowledged.

"In his own way," Sully muttered, knowing he would never forgive the man for the pain he'd caused Michaela.

"I'm not saying I'll never tell her," Michaela glanced over at him.

"That's a start," he replied with a small smile.

"Although there are some things, she _will never_ understand," Michaela gestured to their present proximity.

"Hey, didn't say you had to tell her everything," he chuckled.

Michaela kept her gaze locked with his soft blue eyes as she felt his fingertips trail along her jaw line.

Neither were aware of the pin drop silence that surrounded them, until it was interrupted by the sound of an approaching wagon.

"Sully!" Michaela gripped his arm with a startled gasp.

Quickly, Sully pulled on his buckskins and shirt, catching a glimpse out of the window. "It's only Brian. I'll just tell him you're gettin' changed." Sully located her undergarments on the floor and passed them to her.

Rushing to redress, Michaela's eyes darted between her clothes and Sully. "Tuck your shirt in," she muttered with a breathless chuckle.

Sully did as he was told, again checking on Brian's location. "Still got a couple of minutes." he scrounged around the quilt, locating Michaela's skirt and blouse. "Here."

"Thank-you. You'd better be outside, hadn't you?" Michaela realized, hastily buttoning up her blouse.

"Ah, right," Sully muttered, hearing Brian draw Bear to a halt.

Clearing his throat, Sully slipped out through the front door.

Michaela quickly finished dressing, listening to the distant banter between Sully and Brian.

**X.O.X.**

"Can't remember the last time it was only the three a us for supper," Sully poured the bucket of warm water into the sink.

"It's certainly quiet," Michaela smiled softly, commencing the washing up. "Did Colleen mention what time she would be home, Brian?" Michaela handed the first clean plate to Sully to dry.

"Just after supper. Said Mr Bing'd bring her back." Brian shrugged, turning his attention back to the sketching pad in front of him.

Michaela met eyes with Sully in mutual understanding. "And we don't know what time Matthew will be home either."

Sully raised an eyebrow, "Tell him now?"

Michaela rolled her eyes with a smile, as Brian's attention quickly dropped from his sketching.

"What, tell me what?" his eyes darted back and forth between Michaela and Sully.

"Well?" Michaela looked to Sully. "You brought it up?" She gestured towards Brian.

"Brian, we ah, wanted to ask what you thought about something," Sully commenced.

"What?" Brian couldn't help the smile that slowly beamed across his face.

"Well, how'd you like it, if ya ma and me got married?" Sully glanced at Michaela, both smiling at the look of shock on Brian's face.

"You mean it? When?" the little boy stood quickly from his seat, not sure what to do with his excitement.

"Soon," Michaela answered, feeling Sully pull her into a hug, as Brian arrived between them.

"So then you'd really be my pa," Brian's eyes glistened, as he hugged each parent in turn.

"I'll be everyone's pa, Brian," Sully ruffled the boy's hair.

"So you'll get to live here with us, right Sully?" Brian asked slowly.

"Right, Brian," Sully answered, "'least until I can get a new place built," he looked back to Michaela for a response.

"A new homestead?" she shook her head in surprise.

"Sure. I've already got the land. Maybe take six months or so, dependin' on the weather and gettin' materials, but, by summer next year, should have a brand new place." Sully watched Michaela take in his words.

"You didn't think of all this just today, did you?" Michaela inquired slowly.

"Nope," Sully smirked. "Was waitin' 'til it was the right time."

"Can I tell Colleen and Matthew?" Brian chimed in, having just realized he had acquired important information ahead of his brother and sister.

"You may," Michaela kissed the top of his head. "So I take it, you approve?"

His smile slowly dropping, Brian nodded, much more seriously. "Sully loves all of us, Ma. But he loves you the most. And he will make you happy," Brian smiled.

Michaela was just about to acknowledge the maturity of Brian's comment, when they heard an approaching horse. "It's Matthew!" Brian darted quickly towards the front door and disappeared out onto the porch to break the news to his brother.

Resting her head against his chest, Michaela listened to the sounds of the children's conversation.

"Brian's right," Sully wrapped his arms around her back. "I wanna make you happy, Michaela,"

"Well, we're off to a good start," she looked up, feeling his lips meet her own in a soft, lingering kiss.

**X.O.X**

Taking the wooden bucket out to the barn, Sully was surprised to find Colleen pacing in circles.

"Somethin' wrong Colleen? You've been out tendin' the horses for a while," Sully glanced over towards Flash, Taffy, Scout and Bear. "Ain't been fed yet."

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Colleen shook her head, and headed across to fetch the hay.

"Had a good time tonight?" Sully asked carefully.

"Oh, yeah," Colleen beamed. "Real good about you and Dr Mike, too," she attempted to change the subject.

"That ain't why you're pacin' the barn though?" Sully smiled knowingly.

Colleen shrugged, knowing she had to tell someone.

"Sully? It's just, well, Lewis asked if he could court me, and I said yes and all, but," Colleen trailed off when she saw Sully nod in understanding.

"But ya worried Dr Mike ain't gonna approve?" Sully raised an eyebrow.

"What if she says I'm too young?" Colleen challenged.

"Perhaps courtin' for her, is somethin' different than it is for you and Lewis?" Sully suggested.

"I ain't thinkin' 'bout marryin' him or nothin'. It's just, Lewis listens to me. Makes me feel special. Tonight, after supper, he took me for a walk. And we talked. I trust him. I can tell him stuff, knowin' he won't go blabbin' all around school. It's been real hard this year, just nice to have someone worry 'bout me for a change. Bring me flowers, hold my hand." Colleen shook her head, having drifted into memories of that evening. "Sully, if Dr Mike doesn't know, then she can't object." Colleen reasoned.

"Think it's right to keep it from her?" Sully asked skeptically.

"I wouldn't if I knew she was gonna approve," Colleen defended.

"And what if she didn't approve?" Sully frowned, noticing the determination in Colleen's face.

"I, I'd probably just keep seein' Lewis anyway." Colleen shrugged. "It's my life, Sully."

"That's true, but, she is your ma, Colleen. She has a right to look out for you," Sully reasoned.

"She ain't really lookin' out for me, Sully! She's holdin' me to the standards she was raised to, and, ain't the same here!" Colleen sighed in exasperation.

"That's true. But you and ya ma gotta find a way to work through this. You need to be honest, Colleen." Sully checked each of the stalls, making sure the horses were secure for the night.

"Are you gonna tell on me?" Colleen asked nervously.

Sully drew a long, thoughtful breath. "No, I'm not gonna tell on you. But I ain't gonna lie to your ma, either. If she asks me, I'll tell her the truth."

"But only if she asks?" Colleen checked.

Sully rolled his eyes, "See ya inside, Colleen."

**X.O.X**

Matthew triumphantly prized Brian's last checker piece from the board.

"That'll teach you to get all cocky, Brian," he smirked.

Dropping his head, Brian helped his brother rearrange the pieces for another game. "When are you and Ingrid gonna get married?"

"Soon as I finish the homestead," Matthew sighed, knowing winter was fast approaching.

"You and Ingrid could have a double weddin' with Ma and Sully?" Brian announced cheerfully.

Matthew turned his head to glance in his mother's direction, just as Michaela looked up from the book she was reading.

"Brian, Sully and I are having a very quiet wedding," Michaela informed her son.

"So Grandma ain't comin'?" Brian asked, his face dropping in disappointment.

"No, Brian. In fact, we're not going to tell people until afterwards," Michaela decided, hearing the door open behind her.

"But everyone wants ya to get married, Ma. They'll be happy for ya," Brian looked to Sully, as he took a seat at the table, catching up on the conversation.

"Hush up, Brian," Matthew muttered under his breath.

"Don't you tell me to hush up, I ain't a baby!" Brian threw several checker pieces across the room, darting quickly towards the front door.

Matthew looked between Michaela and Sully as the wooden door slammed behind Brian.

"What was that?" Sully shook his head, having walked in on the outburst only moments earlier.

"When's that kid gonna grow up?" Matthew sighed, putting the checkers pieces away into the wooden box.

"You didn't help, Matthew," Michaela stood and headed out the front door after Brian.

Michaela glanced around the porch, surprised when she didn't see Brian nor Pup anywhere.

"Brian!" she walked briskly down the steps, looking over towards the barn.

"Ma?" Brian poked his head out from underneath the porch.

"So this is your new hiding place?" Michaela smiled, crouching down between the stacks of firewood.

"Had it for a while," Brian shrugged.

"And, do you hide under here often?" Michaela cringed, thinking of the recent conversations that had taken place between her and Sully on the porch.

"Nah. Only if I want some place to be by myself," Brian answered, patting Pup who lay curled up next to him.

"Well, Brian, I think you're right about not being a baby anymore." Michaela crawled her way in beside Brian, much to the boy's intrigue.

"Maybe I don't understand everything all the time, but why do you gotta worry about what people think, Ma?" Brian asked.

"About Sully and I marrying?" Michaela thought back over the previous conversation.

"Yeah. People will be happy you're gettin' married, won't they?" he shrugged.

"Oh, it's not that, Brian." Michaela frowned, trying to put in to words the feelings she had behind marrying Sully. "It's just something that I want us to share as a family."

"As long as Sully gets to be our pa," Brian agreed.

Michaela nodded, thinking back to the conversation she'd had with Sully earlier that day.

"Brian, Sully and I were talking, and since you are getting older, how would you feel about sleeping out in the barn with Matthew?" Michaela asked hesitantly.

"That'd be good," Brian answered immediately. "I'm gettin' too old to be gettin' dressed with Colleen," Brian scrunched up his face in repulsion.

"I thought that might be the case," Michaela smiled. "You know, Brian, you can talk to me about anything. Even man-stuff," she saw Brian's head drop in embarrassment.

"Aww, Ma," Brian cringed, thoroughly humiliated.

"Unless you'd prefer to talk to Sully or Matthew?" Michaela dismissed.

Brian nodded sheepishly, choosing a random spot on the ground to focus his gaze on.

"All right." Michaela smiled.

"It's just, you and Colleen get to talk about girl-stuff. Like her and Lewis courtin'," Brian giggled, assuming his mother had heard the news.

"Colleen and Lewis are courting?" Michaela saw the excited expression on Brian's face melt into regret.

"Thought you knew." He shrugged. "That's why they been spendin' so much time together."

"I see." Michaela brushed the dirt from her hands.

"Don't tell her I told you." Brian rubbed his forehead.

"Oh, I won't." Michaela crawled back out from under the porch and got to her feet. "Come inside young man, it's freezing out here."

"Do I have to?" Brian sighed.

Michaela considered his objection. "No, you don't have to. Would you like me to fetch your jacket?" Michaela smiled.

"Yeah." Brian nodded.

Walking back up to the homestead, Michaela quickly retrieved Brian's jacket, eyes meeting only briefly with Sully, before she headed back out onto the porch.

"Here," Michaela arrived back to Brian's hidden location, handing him the jacket.

"Thanks." Brian shrugged.

"I'll have Matthew take your cot into the barn." Michaela headed back towards the porch when she saw Colleen appear through the barn door.

Fighting every disapproving and worried instinct within her, Michaela forced herself to approach Colleen in a calm manner.

"You've finished your chores?" Michaela asked calmly.

"Sure." Colleen nodded, avoiding direct eye contact.

"How was supper tonight?" Michaela continued, watching Colleen's awkwardness.

"Good. Myra weren't feelin' well, so we went to Grace's." Colleen chewed on her lower lip, wanting to share her news with her mother, however, afraid that she would disapprove.

"We?" Michaela picked up on Colleen's statement immediately, her tone more accusing than she would have liked.

"Lewis and I," Colleen replied in an almost daring fashion. "Well, Myra was tired, so Horace wanted to stay with her." Colleen defended, able to tell by her tone that her mother would never understand.

"I see. And you had a pleasant evening?" Michaela probed, although aware that Colleen's avoidant tone was making it more difficult to remain calm.

"Guess so," Colleen replied coolly.

**X.O.X**

Matthew sat with his arms over the back of the wooden chair, watching as Sully tended the fire. "Nah, real good you and Dr Mike decided to get married."

"So how far along is your homestead?" Sully asked, taking a seat on the floor, beside Wolf.

Matthew sighed, "Don't ask. Haven't done nothin' in months. Ain't no way I'm gonna get the walls and roof all done by winter now, so, the foundation's gonna be damaged by the snow. Pretty much have to start over next February."

"Got a proposition for ya," Sully stroked Wolf's back.

"Yeah?" Matthew leaned fowards.

"You help me with the new homestead. Soon as that's done, you can have this one, and I'll help ya work on it, ready for Ingrid and her family." Sully watched Matthew consider the idea.

"What, you'd give me this homestead?" the young man's eyes widened.

"Sure. Long as ya help me build the new one. Ain't no way we're all gonna fit in here, and I think it'd be good to have a new place. Fresh start and all that," Sully reasoned.

"You're right." Matthew nodded. "All I want at this stage, is to get married, don't much care where we live. Ingrid don't neither. Anything is better than where she and her family are livin' now."

"So it's a deal?" Sully leaned forwards, offering his hand.

"Yeah. Could probably get Robert E. and Jon to help too." Matthew suggested. "When's Dr Mike due?"

Sully shrugged, realizing he didn't actually know for sure. "Gotta be around February sometime."

"Ain't no way we're gonna have the homestead built by then." Matthew sighed.

"I know. I was hopin' for summer, though," Sully reiterated.

"Well, we'll do the best we can." Matthew nodded.

"Be good to give ya ma somethin' to look forward to." Sully smiled.

"Ingrid too," Matthew contributed. "She's been real understandin' the last few months. Had to keep puttin' off the weddin', and with all the extra responsibilities out here, ain't had as much time to spend with her."

"Well, think things are gonna start to get better," Sully glanced over to Wolf, who had jumped to his feet with a concerned whine.

It wasn't until Matthew and Sully stopped talking that they could hear the raised voices from outside.

**X.O.X**

"I did not lie to you!" Colleen bellowed, as she slammed the heavy wooden door open and stomped back inside the barn.

"You're too young to be courting anyone, Colleen." Michaela followed closely on her daughter's heels.

"Where, in Boston! Look around, Dr Mike, we _ain't in_ Boston. Ma was married at sixteen. And I'm gonna be fifteen in a week. People go courtin' for years 'fore they get married," Colleen defended angrily.

"Times are different, Colleen. You have to finish your schooling," Michaela saw the defiance in her daughter's eyes.

"I didn't say I'm gettin' married or nothin'. Lewis asked if he could court me and I said 'yes'. It's my decision; I don't need your permission!" Colleen retorted, crossing her arms tightly and leaning up against the barn wall, a daring expression on her face.

Shaking her head with an exasperated sigh, Michaela simply turned and headed out of the barn, back towards the homestead.

Matthew and Sully looked up as the back door slammed closed.

"I better go chop some firewood for tomorrow," Matthew excused himself very quickly, making a bee line for the front door.

"Something the matter?" Sully watched as Michaela took a seat at the table.

"I don't know what to do about Colleen," she sighed.

"What's up?" Sully had a pretty good idea, but had promised Colleen he would not break her confidence.

"Apparently, she and Lewis are courting. Not that she told me, I had to hear it from Brian." Michaela glanced around the room, ensuring they were alone.

"You think she's too young?" Sully speculated.

"Of course she's too young!" Michaela answered without thinking, "Isn't she?" she paused long enough to glance in Sully's direction.

"I started courtin' Abigail when she was little older than Colleen. Don't think she's too young, provided courtin's all it is," Sully shrugged.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Michaela frowned.

"Well, courtin' ain't a big deal, Michaela. Just means, goin' to supper, takin' walks, talkin'. Unless it's serious, ain't nothin' to be worried about." Sully tried to calm her down.

"You think I'm overreacting? Just like I did with Matthew," Michaela remembered the battle she's gone through with him, little over a year ago.

"Matthew was talkin' about marryin' Ingrid, so was different. I don't think Colleen's thinkin' a that. Think she just wants something of her own to enjoy for a while. Been a tough year for her, she just wants to do the normal things her friends are doin'," Sully watched Michaela process his words.

"Did you know about this?" she asked suspiciously.

"I," Sully paused, sensing he was going to be the one in trouble next. "Only found out when Colleen got home. She was worried you'd disapprove. I told her to talk to you about it."

"And I reacted exactly the way she expected me to, didn't I?" Michaela ran her hands over her face as she got to her feet.

"She's just tryin' to find her own space, Michaela. It's just the way things gotta be. Worst thing you can do is overreact. She'll just push harder against you." Sully watched as Michaela crossed the room, clearing up the last of the supper dishes.

"I'm supposed to pretend I don't care?" Michaela asked skeptically, as she sat back down at the table.

"No, the opposite. Make sure she knows you'll always care about her. But sooner or later, she's gotta learn to make her own decisions in life. Gotta learn she can trust herself."

"It's not her I'm worried about." Michaela cupped her chin in her right hand.

"Lewis? He's been sweet on her for years," Sully smiled, thinking back to when the young boy had first brought Colleen flowers. "Now, if it was Benjamin Avery, I'd be concerned."

"Is Brian still outside?" Michaela glanced worriedly around the homestead.

"Guess so," Sully shrugged.

"He's quite happy sleeping out in the barn. You were right, Sully, he was uncomfortable changing in front of Colleen. I should of thought about it sooner." Michaela looked up, when she hadn't received a reply from Sully.

Sully met her gaze immediately, both looking away when they realized they were thinking about the same thing.

Clearing his throat, Sully changed the subject. "Matthew's gonna help me with the homestead. Have it finished soon as we can."

Distracted, Michaela nodded.

"What ya thinkin'?" Sully asked calmly, standing and moving behind Michaela to tenderly grasp her shoulders, commencing a gently, soothing massage.

"That somehow I've distanced myself from the children too much, Sully. I don't know when it happened; I don't know how it happened. Brian's growing up so fast, and Colleen, she seems to be deliberately rebelling against me." Michaela moved her head slowly from side to side, gradually feeling her shoulders begin to relax.

Allowing the silence to linger whilst he unhurriedly continued the massage, Sully phrased his response neutrally. "It's just the way it's meant to be, Michaela."

"But what I am to do about Colleen?" she sighed.

"Just keep talkin' to her. Try not to show that you disagree with her decision, it'll only make her angrier. Reckon ya gotta loosen the reins for a while, 'til she realizes you're not going to react to every little thing like it's the end of the world. When she sees she ain't fightin' ya no more, she'll come 'round." Sully bent down, delicately trailing several kisses around the side of Michaela's neck.

Wearily, Michaela nodded in acceptance of his words. "I need to lie down for a while."

"Anythin' I can get ya?" Sully smiled, dropping his hands from her shoulders and stepping backwards as she stood from the table.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Michaela bent over to begin unlacing her boots.

"Uh," Sully touched her arm lightly. "Lie back."

Obeying his instructions, Michaela watched as he slowly removed each shoe. "I seem to remember we've been here before," she smiled wryly.

"Indeed," Sully winked, dropped the boots to the floor, as he leaned forwards to kiss the corner of her mouth teasingly.

As she felt Sully carefully remove each of her boots in turn, Michaela knew she wanted him to stay.

"Sure there's nothin' I can get?" Sully touched her right knee gently, pulling her from her thoughts.

Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Michaela simply shook her head. "But thank-you," she forced a weak smile.

Sully watched as her smile faded into a concentrated frown.

"What?" he prompted.

"I forgot to ask Matthew to move Brian's cot out into the barn," she sighed.

"I'll do it," Sully offered immediately, standing from the bed and turning, only stopping when Michaela spoke his name again.

"Sully?" Michaela paused, waiting until she had his attention.

"Yeah?" he looked back, seeing the frown return to her face.

"Did, did you want to stay?" she asked awkwardly.

Resuming his seat on the edge of the bed, Sully studied her expression before replying.

"If ya want me to?" he answered softly.

"It just seems strange, you leaving," Michaela shrugged. "But if anyone found out," she trailed off.

"Michaela, if you want me to stay, I'll stay," Sully replied sharply.

Looking from his calm expression, back to the quilt, Michaela tried to rationalize her answer.

Blinking and quickly looking back up at him, Michaela answered, "But what about Colleen? It hardly seems fair for me to criticize her and Lewis courting, and for me to,"

Sully interjected sharply, "Ain't the same thing, Michaela. Colleen's old enough to understand the difference. You didn't answer my question; do you want me to stay?"

"Well, yes, but," Michaela sighed, watching as Sully stood from the side of the bed.

"That's settled," he winked, crossing the room. "I'll go put Brian's cot out in the barn."

"Thank-you," Michaela sighed, turning onto her left side, eventually feeling the ache in her back subside.


End file.
